Volume 51, Nos. 3–4 (2010)

Logos

A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Revue des études de l’Orient chrétien Журнал східньохристиянських студій

This periodical is indexed in Religion Index One: Periodicals, the Index to Book Reviews in Religion, Religion Indexes: RIO/RIT/IBRR 1975– on CD- ROM, and in the ATLA Religion Database, published by the American Theological Library Association, 300 Wacker Drive, Suite 2100, Chicago, IL 60606, E-mail: [email protected], WWW: http://www.atla.com

Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Revue des études de l’Orient chrétien Журнал східньохристиянських студій

A continuation of Logos: Periodicum Theologiae Trimestre (1950–1983) ISSN 0024–5895 Published by Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky Institute of Eastern Christian Studies and the Yorkton Province of the Ukrainian Redemptorists © 2010 Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky Institute of Eastern Christian Studies

Editor-in-Chief: Peter Galadza (Sheptytsky Institute) Managing Editor: Stephen Wojcichowsky (Sheptytsky Institute) Editor: Adam DeVille Distribution: Lorraine Manley Layout & Design: Key-Co. Enterprises Tel. 613-824-3878 Fax 613-824-9799

Editorial Board Peter Galadza (Sheptytsky Institute), Borys Gudziak (Ukrainian Catholic University), Metropolitan Lawrence Huculak, OSBM (Archeparchy of Winnipeg), John A. Jillions (Sheptytsky Institute), Andrew T. Onuferko (Sheptytsky Institute), Larry Kondra, CSsR (Yorkton Province of the Ukrainian Redemptorists).

International Advisory Board Charles Kannengiesser (retired, Concordia of Montreal), Johannes Madey (retired, Paderborn), Robert Taft, SJ (retired, Pontifical Orien- tal Institute), Bishop Kallistos (Ware) of Diokleia (retired, Oxford).

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Logos A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Revue des études de l’Orient chrétien Журнал східньохристиянських студій

Volume 51 2010 Nos. 3–4

Table of Contents

Editorial

Married Eastern Catholic Priests: The Continuing Saga of Identifying “Latin” with “Catholic” Peter Galadza ...... 219

Articles

Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem Jack Turner ...... 229

Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai Šimon Marinčák ...... 249

The Servant Church: Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity John A. Jillions ...... 307

Notes, Essays, Lectures

Identity, Fracture and Exodus: The Disappearing Christians of the Holy Land Stephen W. Need...... 331

Logos: Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4 Table of Contents

A Proposal for the Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church Culminating in Baptism-Chrismation During a Parish Sunday Liturgy Peter Galadza ...... 341

Byzantines, Ottomans, and Latins: Reconsidering the Politics Daniel Larison ...... 355

Book Reviews

C. Paul Schroeder, St. Basil the Great: On Social Justice (William Mills) ...... 367

Alexander Schmemann, Journal (1973–1983) (Michael Plekon) ...... 369

Aidan Nichols, Rome and the Eastern Churches: a Study in Schism (Adam A.J. DeVille) ...... 373

Frank J. Coppa, Politics and the Papacy in the Modern World (Athanasius McVay) ...... 376

Hans van Loon, The Dyophysite Christology of Cyril of Alexandria (Lois Farag) ...... 380

Zoe Knox, Russian Society and the Orthodox Church: Religion in Russia After Communism (Nadieszda Kizenko) ...... 384

Richard Price and Mary Whitby, eds., Chalcedon in Context. Church Councils 400–700 (Stephen W. Need) ...... 389

Norman Russell, Fellow Workers with God: Orthodox Thinking on Theosis (Edith M. Humphrey) ...... 392

Stefanos Alexopoulos, The Presanctified Liturgy in the Byzantine Rite: A Comparative Analysis of Its Origins, Evolution, and Structural Components (Peter Galadza) ...... 396

iv Logos: Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4 Table of Contents

Jaroslav Z. Skira and Michael S. Attridge, eds., In God’s Hands: Essays on the Church and Ecumenism in Honour of Michael A. Fahey, S.J. (Catherine E. Clifford) ...... 401

Lucian N. Leustean, ed. Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91 (Lucien J. Frary) ...... 404

Vlad Naumescu, Modes of Religiosity in Eastern Christianity: Religious Processes and Social Change in Ukraine (Myroslaw Tataryn) ...... 407

Irfan A. Omar, ed. A Muslim View of Christianity: Essays on Dialogue by Mahmoud Ayoub (Theodore Pulcini) ...... 411

Briefly Noted ...... 419

Contributors ...... 443

The Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky Institute of Eastern Christian Studies

Academic Programs, Resources, Books

Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4, pp. 219–228

Editorial Married Eastern Catholic Priests: The Continuing Saga of Identifying “Latin” with “Catholic”

The recent Synod on the Church in the Middle East again brought attention to the question of optional celibacy in the Eastern Catholic Churches. Almost fifty years after Vatican II, many Catholic authorities still resist official Church teaching on the question. (Apparently, “Cafeteria Catholicism” reigns among “conservatives” as well.) Canon 373 of the Code of Ca- nons of the Eastern [Catholic] Churches, promulgated by Pope John Paul II in 1990, asserts: “the hallowed practice of married clerics in the primitive Church and in the tradition of the Eastern Churches throughout the ages is to be held in honour.” Some authorities are inclined to suggest that the canon applies only to “Eastern territories.” That is erroneous. Nowhere is that even hinted in the legislation and, more importantly, it could not be. Official Catholic teaching insists that all “rites” are equal. Orientalium ecclesiarum 3 reads: “These individual Churches, whether of the East or the West … are of equal dignity, so that none of them is superior to the others as regards rite and they enjoy the same rights and are under the same obligations, also in respect of preaching the Gospel to the whole world (cf. Mark 16: 15) under the guidance of the Roman Pontiff.” Below I shall return to “preaching the Gospel to the whole world” and “the guidance of the Roman Pontiff.” Some have attempted to demonstrate that mandatory continence after ordination – which would naturally lead to mandatory celibacy – is the authentic (“apostolic”) tradition of the Eastern Churches. That eccentric thesis has been refuted; inter alia one can consult an extensive study published on the pages 220 Peter Galadza

of our own journal, Logos, in 1993 (J. Kevin Coyle, “Recent Views on the Origin of Clerical Celibacy”). If the thesis were true, millions of children born into Eastern Christian presbyteral families for centuries before and after the Council in Trullo (691–692 AD) were/are the result of indifference towards “authentic” Church tradition. (Trullo, according to proponents of the aforementioned thesis, attempted to restore the “apostolic” tradition.) For those unaware of the consequences of the disregard for optional celibacy among Eastern Catholics, the following information may be helpful: First, in France, Ireland, Italy, Spain and Portugal, married Ukrainian Catholic priests are required to leave their wives – and children – in Ukraine, or other parts of Europe. (There are various “arrangements” and “exceptions” that are sometimes “negotiated,” but these simply highlight how inanity engenders deception.) The late Cardinal Lustiger insisted that he did not want to see the celibacy debate re-opened among Roman Ca- tholics in France. The presence of married Eastern Catholic priests would apparently do that. (More on this below.) Note, incidentally, that the aforementioned countries are now domi- cile for millions of Eastern Catholics forced to seek livelihoods outside their homelands, and in need of pastoral care. Second, while certainly an improvement over the Euro- pean ban, the ability to bring married Eastern Catholic priests to North America from Eastern Europe with their families rein- forces the perception that Eastern Catholicism is an “alien,” “immigrant” reality – and thus doomed to disappear in the West. Third, in the United States, the ordination of native-born American married seminarians to the priesthood is rare. Eastern Catholic seminaries in the USA are not allowed to prepare married candidates for the priesthood. Fourth, in response to a decision in 1998 of the Council of Hierarchs of the Byzantine Catholic (Ruthenian) Metropolia of Pittsburgh to allow for the ordination of married candidates to the priesthood, the Vatican ruled that each candidate would have to be vetted individually by a dicastery in Rome. Editorial 221

Let us examine this last point. In 1998, the Council of Hierarchs forwarded its revised statutes for approval to Rome. Originally, par. 44, sections 1, 2 and 3, read:

1. The Council of Hierarchs of the Metropolia of Pittsburgh notes the very clear direction of the Second Vatican Council’s Decree on the Eastern Churches, canons 373, 28, 39, and 40 of the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches, paragraph 1 of Orientale Lumen, which direct a return to the original patrimony of the Eastern Catholic Churches. The Council of Hierarchs also notes that there is currently a married clergy in the Latin Church in the United States, and that it has been imple- mented without scandal to the faithful of the Latin Church.

2. This same Council of Hierarchs ascertains that the imposition of clerical celibacy introduced by the decree Cum data fuerit and reaffirmed by the decree Qua sollerti are currently in effect [sic] for the Ruthenians in the United States.

3. The Council of Hierarchs declares that these special restrictive norms imposed by the Apostolic See are no longer in force and, thus, in the Metro- polia of Pittsburgh, marriage is not an impediment to presbyteral orders.

Within days the Vatican asked the Byzantine Catholic Metropolitan, Judson Procyk, to postpone implementation of the statutes. Within a year, they were revised to read:

1. Married men, after completion of the formation prescribed by law, can be admitted to the order of deacon.

2. Concerning the admission of married men to the order of the presbyterate, the special norms issued 222 Peter Galadza

by the Apostolic See are to be observed, unless dispensations are granted by the same See in individual cases.

What is one to make of this? Certainly, the Byzantine Catholic hierarchs had demonstrated a firm commitment to authentic Catholicism. They quoted Vatican II, the Eastern Code, as well as John Paul II’s Apostolic Letter, Orientale lumen. But the decision of a Vatican dicastery is also “authentically Catholic.” And here we are brought back to Orientalium ecclesiarum 3 and its reference to Eastern Catholics working “under the guidance of the Roman Pontiff.” To state the obvious, Roman authorities believe that mandatory celibacy is a blessing that needs to be imposed on Eastern Catholics. One cannot stress enough, however, that there is nothing self-evident, or binding, about this conviction. No pope, for example, has ever publicly expressed this belief – though certain phrases in pars. 29 and 50 of John Paul II’s Pastores dabo vobis will probably be marshalled by those hoping to canonize such an imposition. Basilio Petrà critically discussed this papal document and its tendentious interpretations in his “Married Priest- hood: Some Theological ‘Resonances’” in Logos last year. Thus, if enough Eastern Catholic hierarchs were to insist on returning to the tradition of ordaining married men – worldwide – they could certainly do so with the full weight of Roman teaching on their side. So why do they not? The following is a partial list of the reasons – beginning with the “less exalted”: First, Eastern Catholics are not willing to wean themselves of the considerable financial aid provided by Roman Catholic agencies. Until Eastern Catholics themselves begin shoulder- ing more of their own financial burdens, Roman Catholics will naturally continue to influence Eastern Catholic life inordinately. (And incidentally, such influence is usually positive, the case of mandatory celibacy notwithstanding.) Second, a certain (though apparently decreasing) percentage of Eastern Catholic hierarchs – particularly in the West – themselves believe that mandatory celibacy is a bles- Editorial 223

sing that should be appropriated by Eastern Catholics. This is frequently given as a reason for retaining the ban on married clergy in the West: “Your own bishops want it.” In cases where this holds, however, one certainly has the right to ask whether the bishops in question were influenced by their awareness that a candidate to the episcopate expressing openness to ordaining married candidates to the priesthood automa- tically risks being removed from a terna. This is not to impute careerism to episcopal candidates. Rather, one could conclude that for the Vatican, an Eastern candidate’s attitude towards mandatory celibacy is weighted heavily when selecting bishops for the USA and other Western countries. Finally, all other considerations aside, a certain number of Eastern Catholic hierarchs accept the Latin theology and spirituality of celibacy. These certainly contain profound insights and intuitions. And note that the most authentically Eastern theologian rightly dare not question the fact that Tradition holds perpetual virginity to be a superior virtue. Time and again, however, certain Eastern Catholics maintain the Latin notion that this superior virtue must be a pre-requisite for ordination. This is where Eastern and Western theologies of celibacy part company. Latin theologies also speak of the priest’s “marriage to his community.” A married priest apparently doesn’t symbolize this “marriage.” But, to begin with, if this were an absolute necessity, the Latin Church could never accept the presence of hundreds of former Anglican priests in her midst. More importantly, turning metaphors into metaphy- sics is fundamentally unsound. Playing that game, there is no shortage of “deficiencies” that one could impute to Latin theologies. (Some Orthodox do this to Latins when they dogmatize certain Eastern liturgical usages.) In any case, Vatican II insisted that Eastern Catholics cultivate their own theology (cf. Lumen gentium 23, Unitatis redintegratio 17, and Orientalium ecclesiarum 3.) A distinctive theology of priesthood – and married priesthood – presumably is not excluded. What about the myriad of “practical considerations” that are adduced to defend the ban on ordaining married candidates? Before listing these, one must note an exasperating aspect of the debate: while it is taboo for Eastern Catholics to 224 Peter Galadza

draw attention to the myriad of “practical considerations” that have plagued mandatory celibacy in the Latin (and their own) tradition, Latins frequently do just that when speaking of married Eastern clergy thus:

1. “The Church cannot afford married priests.” Whether or not this is true is ultimately irrelevant. If a young couple is willing to embrace the poverty of the married clerical state, why should the Church prevent them from doing so? There is a strong tradition (Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky was particularly insistent on this) that the evan- gelical counsels are for everyone, not just monastics. Of course, the counsels are to be adapted to different states of life, but the ideal holds for everyone.

2. “Married priests cannot be moved as easily.” This is true, and it can be a handicap. But one might wonder whether the frequent shuffling of clergy is always beneficial. In any case, even Latin dioceses frequently propose the “6 plus 6” pattern as the norm: the priest serves six years in a parish with the option of another six years in the same posting. An average of twelve years in one parish would certainly provide enough stability even for priests with children.

3. “Married priests with children cannot be expected to live in inner-city, crime-ridden neighbourhoods.” Without doubt this is the most valid objec- tion, and married priests owe boundless respect to celibates and monastics who have borne this burden for so long. (I have in mind neighbourhoods where bullets occasionally fly through rec- tory windows – not just impoverished ones. Obviously, embracing poverty will sometimes require the clergy family to live in a poor neighbourhood.) Of course, there is always the childless Editorial 225

presbyteral couple that might be called upon to serve such parishes, but in the final analysis one can only hope for a sufficient number of celibates and monastics to continue working in such neighbourhoods. Protestant ministerial families, incidentally, do provide countless examples of service in third-world missions, and their spirituality should be emulated. But note the difference: Pro- testant Churches “commission” such ministerial families and frequently provide them with unique forms of support to ease the burdens.

4. “An increasing number of clergy couples – Protestant, Orthodox – are divorcing.” This is true, but the argument presumes that failure requires elimination. One would never suggest, for example, that abuse demands suppression of use in other areas of Church life. Such faulty logic is evident when opponents of optional celibacy also note that the priest’s children may not grow up to be faithful Christians, or that a clergy couple may ignore the Church’s teaching on birth control.

Several of the arguments above derive inspiration from the notion that the married priest necessarily possesses “a divided heart” (I Cor. 7:34). The Pauline text has in fact been the rallying cry for mandatory celibacy for centuries. Two responses come to mind: a) Many things can cause a heart’s “division”; and b) universalizing scriptural quotations (especially when the Church of the first millennium did not do so) smacks of fundamentalism. One should note that during the first millennium, even the Latin Church did not feel obliged to apply I Cor. 7:34 in the way that it has come to be used in the present debate. One must therefore ask why – beyond the strict interpretation of I Cor. 7:34 – marriage should be singled out as “dividing the heart.” The answer is obviously “nuptial relations.” The premier Latin theologian, Saint Augustine, believed that married lay people should enjoy marital relations as rarely as possible; and doing so without the intention of 226 Peter Galadza

bearing children was a venial sin. No wonder Latin Catholics considered “scandalous” the presence of married Eastern priests in “their” territories. (As attested by the text above, as recently as 1998 the Byzantine Catholics bishops of the Pitts- burgh Metropolia felt compelled to address this “scandal.”) Before concluding this section on the “divided heart” we should note a significant detail of Eastern Catholic history. Few people today realize that Patriarch Josyf Slipyj, who cou- rageously ordained scores of married candidates in the West in the period after his release from Siberian imprisonment (1963– 1984), had once been a vehement opponent of optional celibacy. Before World War II, during his years as rector of the Lviv Seminary, he consistently fought the practice. What happened to cause the change? During his eighteen years in the Gulag he saw hundreds of married priests – sometimes with their wives and children – willing to suffer alongside the celibates. And lest we forget, of the twenty-seven martyrs and confessors beatified by John Paul II in 2001 during his visit to Ukraine, five were married priests. This brings us to what is certainly the most crucial dimension of the question – the presvitera. Especially today, if a priest’s wife does not have her own sense of vocation, married priesthood simply does not work. Every Eastern Christian language affirms this vocation with a proper title: “presvitera,” “khouri,” “matushka.” Ukrainian has three titles, two of which stress “motherhood” and “benefaction.” Unfortunately, the Transcarpathian Greco-Catholic term is “pani,” that is, “Lady” – and, of course, wherever in any Church the “aristocratic” dimension is stressed, trouble ensues. Fortunately, in Western countries this has become less of an issue, as priests themselves less frequently enjoy privileged status. For priest wives to foster their vocations they will have to have been prepared to do so. In the past, young women could see the role modeled by older presviterai and learn the expec- tations. Today, instruction analogous to that provided by marriage prep programs will have to be developed. (Such a program does exist at the Greco-Catholic seminary in Prešov, Slovakia, one of the healthiest seminaries I have ever seen). Without proper training for future priest wives, no Church Editorial 227

hoping to revive the tradition of married priests should even think of doing so. Without it, the revival is bound to breed frustration. The priest’s wife should not be viewed primarily as a concession to human weakness, but rather as a co-minister bolstering the priest’s own vocation. Two final issues in conclusion. Uninformed romantics sometimes think that married priesthood means better priests. This is wrong: there are as many bad married priests as celibate. What optional celibacy does, however, is to increase the pool of potential candidates for ordination – and thus the number of priests. But this can have an impact on quality. If standards among clergy are to be maintained (or restored) a larger pool is necessary. And to those who argue that optional celibacy does not increase the number of candidates, the answer is – it depends on the Church. Churches that have become appendages to ethnic groups (I will refrain from naming them) will obviously have trouble finding men who want to commit to serving Christ. Such ethno-centric Churches often have trouble doing anything well: preaching, mission, liturgy – and finding vocations. But Eastern Churches that have remained Churches in the fullest sense continue to have a sur- plus of candidates – just as many Protestant communities do. The Orthodox Church in America (OCA) for example, has so many candidates that it will not ordain a seminarian unless a posting is available. “Preaching the Gospel to the whole world,” as noted above, is also an Eastern Catholic obligation (denied, incidentally, before Vatican II when only Latin Catholics could be missionaries). If Eastern Catholics believe that the number of priests can be increased by ordaining married men, then they should be allowed to do what they deem necessary in order to obey the Lord’s injunction (cf. Matthew 28: 19). Or is it possible that some Latins fail to accept the teaching of Orienta- lium ecclesiarum about the universal vocation of Eastern Catholicism? In sum, none of these issues will be resolved until all Catholic authorities begin to really believe the Catholic teaching that “Latin” alone does not equal “Catholic” per se. In the meantime, Eastern Catholics will continue to be subjected to 228 Peter Galadza

the logic that the needs of the Roman Rite require that they suppress dimensions of their own Catholic heritage. A half- century after the convocation of Vatican II, this is becoming very tiresome. There are countless Roman-Rite practices that engender difficulties for Eastern Catholics. (The fifty-minute – or less – Sunday Mass comes to mind.) Eastern Catholics, however, would never imagine suggesting that such practices be banned; and we await the same courtesy from Latin authorities. In the meantime, may the One who alone bears the fullness of life and truth enlighten us all.

Peter Galadza Editor-in-Chief

    Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4, pp. 229–248

Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem

Jack Turner

Abstract (Українське резюме на ст. 248)

The recent transfer of thousands of Western Christians into Orthodoxy has raised the question of whether being Eastern Orthodox always entails using the East-Roman or Byzantine-Constantinopolitan liturgical tradition exclusively. A number of “Western-rite” parishes have been created, primarily in the Antiochian Orthodox Church in the United States, using modified liturgical forms historically derived from Roman Catholic and Anglican traditions. Must such parishes follow Orthodox canons – for fasting, calculating liturgical time, or determining the length of Lent and what foods may be eaten therein – which always presuppose Byzantine usages, and often explicitly condemn Western practices? Should such canons be observed or modified – and if so, how and by whom? Or should they be rejected for Western-rite communities, and if so, what should replace them and how would such new canonical legislation be generated? The author reviews the Council in Trullo and other relevant legislation, and concludes by suggesting practical changes, but notes that the issues remain complex and require much more sustained and serious reflection.



230 Jack Turner

I. Introduction

Since the fifteenth century, there have been various attempts to establish an Orthodox Western rite, with attempts becoming more serious in the nineteenth century and enjoying extended success in the twentieth. Western-Rite Orthodoxy is unique in Orthodox Christianity, consisting of groups of faithful, most normally converts from other Christian traditions to the Orthodox Church, who utilize modified forms of the Western liturgies (such as the so-called Tridentine rite or the 1928 American Book of Common Prayer). They do not, in other words, use the East-Roman (Byzantine) rite even though they have joined the Eastern Orthodox Church.1 Though similar to Eastern Catholics, Western-rite Orthodox do not constitute an autonomous particular Church sui iuris, but rather are integrated into the framework of the local diocese, the only difference being ritual use. Thus, theoretically, Western-rite Orthodox, as an integral part of their local Church, fall under the same canonical discipline as do Eastern- rite faithful and clergy. Currently, there are Western-rite parishes in several Ortho- dox jurisdictions in Western Europe, North America, and Oceania. Most of them (twenty-six parishes and missions) are to be found in the Antiochian Western Rite Vicariate, a non- territorial vicariate coordinating the activity of all such parishes in the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America. All parishes are located in the territory of the continental United States, with the Vicariate itself further subdivided into three regional deaneries and Bishop Basil of Wichita appointed as archiepiscopal vicar to provide Western- rite parishes with episcopal representation to other Antiochian bishops in North America. The Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia (ROCOR) also has a few Western-rite institutions. There is one bi-ritual

1 For further details on the history and liturgical uses of the Western rite, especially the Antiochian Western Rite Vicariate (=AWRV), see Jack Turner, “Cum Illi Graeci Sint, Nos Latini: Western Rite Ortho- doxy and the Eastern Orthodox” (Ph.D. thesis, University of Wales, 2010). Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 231

parish (primarily using the Byzantine rite) in the United States, one monastery in Canada with an attached parochial dependen- cy, and a monastery in Australia with three small dependant missions. The ROCOR also has a number of monastics who celebrate various versions of the Western rite, though not attached to any monastery or serving an established parish or mission. The last major body of Western-rite parishes is the American Diocese of the Autonomous Orthodox Metropolia of Western Europe and the Americas, more frequently shortened to the Holy Synod of Milan, consisting of approximately fifteen parishes. Unlike the Antiochians and ROCOR mentioned above, the so-called Holy Synod of Milan would be considered canonical only by some old-calenderist groups and not others. They would certainly not be canonical in the eyes of most Orthodox bodies worldwide. One of the more serious though less frequently mentioned problems presented by Western-rite Orthodoxy is that the Western rite itself is ultimately a canonical problem. It is not a problem of canonical jurisdiction.2 Rather, the problem is the lack of standing of the Western rite in Orthodox canon law. In the establishment of a Western rite, the applicability of various points of canonical legislation was never actually answered to any significant degree and indeed there is ample reason to think that these questions were never really asked in the first place. At best it seems these canonical questions were considered only superficially. Where they have been considered at all, most attention has been directed towards the text of the rites and not towards addressing the canonical issues per se. This canonical problem arises because the entire enterprise has been entered into without a thorough understanding of the concept of rite as more than just a liturgy. Such an approach is

2 In terms of canonical jurisdiction, the question becomes problematic. Some Western-rite groups, like the Antiochians, would be considered canonical by most Orthodox groups because of their communion with the patriarch of Antioch. The same is the case for the Western-rite bodies belonging to the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia, which is, as of 2007, now in full communion with the patriarch of Moscow and the entire Russian Orthodox Church. 232 Jack Turner

unsatisfactory because a rite “must be seen as a Church’s theological-liturgical-cultural reality. It is not some theological-liturgical-cultural ‘suit of clothes’ worn by the one Church in order to create an impression of variety and diversity.”3 A rite is therefore the totality of the life of that church within a given theological-liturgical-cultural framework. A rite is more than a eucharistic liturgy: it includes the disciplines surrounding that liturgy, the forms of celebration of the other sacraments, devotional practices, monastic activity, and the theological reflection that grows from the worshiping community, to name a few points. In summation, a rite is the totality of the local church being the Church. The Western rite does meet some of the criteria for “rite” in the definition above, but the only place where the Western rite seems fully formed is in the area of liturgy, and even then there are disputes about what constitutes the authoritative text for celebrating the Eucharist.4 The formation of other aspects of the rite has been very uneven, particularly within the AWRV. For example, while medievalisms are permitted in the celebration of the rite, especially in the area of devotional practices, monastic orders are theoretically only allowed to exist according to the Rule of Saint Benedict since it antedates the so-called Great Schism.5 While Metropolitan Anthony’s Edict on the Western Rite directly states that “Western rite parishes and clergy are subject to the canons of the Orthodox Church”6 and while this seems acceptable initially, there are serious problems that arise from such an edict because the

3 Manel Nin, “History of the Eastern Liturgies,” Handbook for Litur- gical Studies, Volume I: Fundamental Liturgy, trans. Edward Hagman, ed. Anscar J. Chupungco (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1997), 115; emphasis in the original. 4 See Benjamin Andersen, “An Anglican Liturgy in the Orthodox Church: The Origins and Development of the Antiochian Orthodox Liturgy of Saint Tikhon” (unpublished M.Div. thesis, Saint Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, 2005), 19. 5 There is no active monastic movement within the AWRV: the Antio- chian Archdiocese possesses only one very small Eastern monastery. Addi- tionally, Benedict’s rule, however influential subsequently, was far from the only or even most important rule in the medieval period. 6 Metropolitan Anthony Bashir, “Edict on the Western Rite,” §7, reprinted in The Word 2 (September 1958). Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 233

canon law of the Orthodox Church envisions only one rite, the Byzantine, making strict adherence to this portion of the edict impossible without modification to the Western rite in ways that are not normally envisioned and that would not conform to the substantive definition of rite.

II. The Canons of Trullo and the Western Rite

If one is not careful, one of Alexander Schmemann’s more subtle critiques of the Western rite might go unnoticed. In a response to Andrew Sopko, who laments what he sees as evidence of creeping Byzantinization, Schmemann comments that “[Sopko] deplores, not without some irony, the abandonment by St. Stephen’s parish of the daily celebration of the Eucharist during Great Lent, celebration forbidden as everyone knows, not only in the Eastern Rite, but by an Ecumenical Council as well.”7 Here, Schmemann is referring to the Penthekte Coun- cil, better known in the West as the Quinisext Council or the Synod in Trullo. This council was convoked by Justinian II in 691/692 ostensibly to complete the work of Constantinople II (553) and III (681) since these councils did not have any associated disciplinary canons. The council was composed of 215 bishops, many of whom had been present at the previous council in 681, but there were no Western bishops invited. Basil of Gortyna claimed to represent the papacy as a legate as he had during Constantinople III, but it is far from certain whether or not he was so authorized or merely acting on the authority he possessed a decade earlier.8

7 Alexander Schmemann, “Some Reflections on ‘A Case Study,’” St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly (=SVTQ) 24 (1980): 267, here responding to Andrew J. Sopko, “Western Rite Orthodoxy: A Case Study and Reap- praisal,” SVTQ 22 (1980): 255–65. 8 Leo D. Davis, The First Seven Ecumenical Councils (325–787): Their History and Theology (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1990); Nicolae Dură, “The Ecumenicity of the Council in Trullo,” The Council in Trullo Re- visited, eds. George Nedungatt and Michael Featherstone (Rome: Pontifico Istituto Orientale, 1995); and Andrew J. Ekonomou, Byzantine Rome and the Greek Popes: Eastern Influences on Rome and the Papacy from Gregory the Great to Zacharias, A.D. 599–752 (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2007) assume that Basil acted under papal authority since Crete was under the nomi- nal jurisdiction of Rome at the time, with Ekonomou and Davis adding that 234 Jack Turner

The council approved 102 canons, several of which have commonly been regarded as contrary to the discipline of the Church of Rome, including: • acknowledging the validity of all eighty-five of the so- called Apostolic Canons (2); • allowing married men to be ordained deacons and priests (6, 13, 30) while allowing those who had con- tracted second marriages and been ordained to remain among the clergy rather than be deposed (3); • reiterating Canon 28 of Chalcedon (36);9 • forbidding the full Mass on weekdays in Lent (52);10 • forbidding fasting on Saturdays (55) and as a con- sequence changing the start of Lent;11 • abstaining from meat that had been strangled (67); • forbidding the representation of Christ as a Lamb (82).

the papal apokrisiarii would have participated in the council as well; whether the latter would have possessed any lawful authority is questionable since they were the normal papal delegation to Constantinople and were not specifically charged to represent the pope at an ecumenical council. 9 Ekonomou (Byzantine Rome, 222) and Dură (“Ecumenicity of the Council in Trullo,” 241–242) both insist that this canon could not have been objectionable since it was already contained in Canon 28 of Chalcedon and Canon 3 of Constantinople I. Though the canon entered Western collections in the sixth century, the canon itself was not explicitly accepted as legitimate until the thirteenth century at Lyons II (1274); see Davis, The First Seven Ecumenical Councils, 129–30, 190–94. Even if the legality of the canon were acceptable to Rome, the theory of primacy that underlies these three canons would have been wholly unacceptable. On the other hand, the fact that the council needed to re-promulgate Canon 28 of Chalcedon indicates (pace Ekonomou and Dură) that it still had not been accepted everywhere at this point in time. 10 A practice also condemned in Canon 49 of the Council of Laodicea, 363/4. 11 Western Lent begins on the Wednesday six Sundays before Easter. Since Saturdays (but not Sundays) are counted in the fast, that brings Lent to thirty-six days: the season is rounded out to a full forty days when the Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of the preceding week are added. Were Saturdays not included, the start of Lent would by necessity be ten days earlier since the seven Saturdays that are counted in the fast would need to be replaced with weekdays, thus providing seven weeks of Lent as in the current Byzantine practice, following the canons of the Council in Trullo. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 235

Though the fathers of the council considered it to be ecumenical, as is evidenced by the very first canon, the West frequently treated the council with open hostility. Bede describes the council as a “reprobate synod” and Paul the Deacon dismisses it with the epitaph of erratic.12 Pope Sergius reso- lutely rejected the council, stating that he would rather die than “consent to erroneous novelties.”13 While we do not know which canons Sergius was opposed to, Canon 82 aroused particular fury in the Syrian-born pope as he added the chant Agnus Dei to the liturgy and ordered that the mosaic Worship of the Lamb be restored in Saint Peter’s Basilica.14 If Sergius proved to be a man of intractable loyalties to the Roman form of Christianity, Justinian was equally fiery in his temperament, as contemporary accounts suggest, and was not to have his imperial will thwarted easily. Like his predecessor Constans II had in dealing with Pope Martin, Justinian dispatched the protospatharios in Ravenna to arrest the pope.15 Unfortunately for Justinian, he would have less success than his grandfather as the citizenry of Ravenna and Rome defended Sergius to the point that Justinian’s envoy was left to cower under the pope’s bed while Sergius tried to disperse the mob.16 Shortly afterwards, Justinian was exiled, Sergius died in 701, and the matter was moot until Justinian’s return to power in 705. At that time, Justinian was more amenable to compromise and requested Pope John VI to inform him which canons were deemed offensive by the Roman Church. When that attempt failed due to the pope’s death, the same point was posed to his successor, John VII. The latter simply returned the canons of Trullo without comment.17 The situation was finally resolved in 705 when Pope Constantine personally visited the emperor in Constantinople and agreed that the council would

12 Karl J. von Helfe, History of the Councils (New York: AMS Press, 1972), 239–40. 13 Raymond Davis, The Book of the Pontiffs (Liber Pontificalis): The Ancient Biographies of the First Ninety Roman Bishops to AD 715 (Liver- pool: Liverpool University Press, 1989), 84. 14 Ibid., 85. 15 Ekonomou, Byzantine Rome, 223. 16 Davis, The Book of the Pontiffs, 85. 17 Ibid., 89. 236 Jack Turner

be accepted as ecumenical but the West would simply ignore the canons it deemed reprehensible.18 Aside from Rome, there was little support for accepting the council as ecumenical, much less the canons contrary to Western practice. The sole exception was Spain where the bishops made a formal acceptance of the council at the demand of King Wittiza. However, that council (Toledo XVIII, ca. 703) was omitted from later Spanish canonical collections and was definitively repudiated at a later council in Asturias.19 Later, during the iconoclastic period, Pope Hadrian acknowledged the council as ecumenical and used Canon 82 to support his opposition to iconoclasm.20 Finally, John VIII affirmed that the canons of the Sixth Ecumenical Council (including Trullo) were accepted by the Roman Church provided that they “were not contrary to previous canons or decrees of the holy pontiffs of this see or to good morals.”21 Subsequently, there has been little comment on the validity or ecumenicity of the Trullan canons, except to reject them outright. Certainly, there are reasons to consider the extent that the council was received as ecumenical in the West, but this question is beyond the scope of the present work.22 What is significant for our concern is that even if the canons of Trullo were received as ecumenical (and that is not without significant discussion), they were at the very least selectively enforced where the matter came to legislation contrary to established Roman ecclesiastical tradition – if the canons were ever enforced at all. Certainly, the prohibitions of the council do not exert significant influence on Western liturgy, at least in the sense that absolutely no change to Western liturgical practice resulted from attempts to conform to the canons. The importance of Trullo cannot be overstated for Ortho- dox canon law. The council represents a codification of the

18 Ibid., 91. 19 Roger Collins, The Arab Conquest of Spain (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1989), 18–19. 20 Dură, “The Ecumenicity of the Council in Trullo,” 244. 21 Ibid., 245. 22 Ibid., 245–249, where he argues that the council was accepted as ecumenical in the West. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 237

practices of in the Eastern Church at the time of its convocation. Such a codification was likely the purpose of the council from the start, as Justinian II likely sought to emulate his namesake who had promulgated a great code of civil law.23 The council’s lack of representatives from the West ensured that the legal tradition would primarily be that of the Christian East. Despite claims to the contrary that canons which are normally regarded as anti-Western are not a rejection of the West, at least the canons on the marriage of clergy explicitly state that permission to marry before ordination is a deliberate choice against the “severity” of Rome.24 More to the point, insofar as liturgical matters are concerned, the council charts a distinctly Eastern course for the Church, one which speaks to the growing hegemony of the Constantinopolitan rite and its recensions; this course is subsequently followed by those churches within the imperial capital’s sphere of influence even after the empire itself had ceased to exist. Canon 1 reiterated acceptance of the preceding ecumenical councils and Canon 2 codified the canons of local synods and individual fathers, providing them with an ecumenical force.25 In some cases, the council abrogated previous legislation or disputed the rulings of local synods, and in other instances it created specific rules to answer challenges of its own times. In doing so, Trullo but followed a pattern which existed before the council and continued afterwards, allowing Justinian to issue imperial decrees related to ecclesiastical discipline on a number of occasions. This work continued onward into subsequent centuries with the development of the nomocanons, which codified civil and ecclesiastical law into a single item, and the commentaries on those codes, including those of Theo- dore Balsamon. The most influential work related to canon law in the modern period was the Pedalion, or The Rudder, which is a

23 Davis, The First Seven Ecumenical Councils, 285 and Ekonomou, Byzantine Rome, 221. 24 Canon 3. 25 However, only one canon from the West, from the Third Synod of Carthage (257), was received by the council and invested with ecumenical authority. 238 Jack Turner

collection of ancient canons complied by Saint Nikodemos the Athonite.26 The Pedalion presents the text of the canons of each of the ecumenical councils or those canons provided with an ecumenical authority, an epitome in modern Greek, and various commentaries or his own harmonization and interpretation of the canon.27 It is through the commentary and harmonization that Nikodemos makes his greatest contribution, since he works from the perspective that all canons issued by ecumenical councils were perennial, and when the Church is at variance with the canons, she has erred.28 This even leads him to comment on occasion that the Latins observe canons more faithfully than the Orthodox, even though he displays few other instances of warm feelings for Latin Christians.29 The importance of Trullo is not in anything unique it im- parts to Orthodoxy, but is found in that it is a council invested with ecumenical authority which attempted to suppress various practices at variance with the Byzantine tradition but common to other traditions, such as the Armenian and Latin. As already suggested, the purpose in identifying a canonical question is not to suggest that the Western rite is uncanonical in and of itself, but rather that it represents an aberration from the form envisioned by Orthodox canon law. Here, Nikodemos’s influence on modern Orthodox canon law is felt most acutely, since it is his position that all the canons “must be rigidly kept by all.”30 Given the historic discipline of the West, particularly in liturgical matters, the maintenance of the Western rite in an Orthodox context with only limited modification becomes more difficult, and thus, because the problem is with the application of the canons themselves, a canonical problem.

26 Nikodemos is best remembered for the Philokalia. 27 John H. Erickson, “On the Cusp of Modernity: The Canonical Her- meneutic of St. Nikodemos the Haghiorite (1748–1809),” SVTQ 42 (1998): 50. 28 Ibid. 29 Ibid., 51–52. 30 Ibid., 51. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 239

III. The Canonical Problem Posed by the Western Rite

While the nature of the reception of the council in the West can be disputed, what is not disputed is that in the East the council is received as ecumenical and the council intended itself to be ecumenical. Justinian II certainly desired that the council be ecumenical because he sent copies of its acts to be signed by the bishops of Rome and Ravenna, among others.31 The council designated itself as ecumenical because there was representation from the whole area controlled by the empire, including Armenia (despite the fact that the Armenians were monophysite, as the discourse of Catholicos Sahak III in the acts of the council demonstrates32) and from Rome, nominally in the form of Basil of Gortyna. In that sense, the council is ecumenical because the whole oikoumene is represented. This definition, however, is not entirely in keeping with what is normally meant by the modern use of the designation “ecumenical council.” Thus, Western-rite Orthodoxy’s primary canonical dif- ficulty is in the area of ecclesiastical discipline. This maintenance of good order is a function of the council, and this would naturally include the celebration of the liturgy. Thus, in one sense, the liturgy is a discipline no different from the behaviour of clergy, the number of permissible marriages, or the jurisdiction of a bishop or primate. As such, the canonical norms which have been historically received can be modified, abrogated, or simply ignored if circumstances change.33 One such example of this would be clergy who have been widowed are subsequently allowed to be remarried without being de- frocked, as in the case of Joseph Allen of the Antiochian Archdiocese of North America.34 There are many Orthodox

31 Ekonomou, Byzantine Rome, 221–222. 32 Michael van Esbroeck, “Le Discours du Catholicos Sahak III en 691 et Quelques Documents Arméniens Annexes au Quinisexte,” Council in Trullo Revisited, 322–348. 33 Nicholas Afanasiev, “Canons of the Church: Changeable or Un- changable?,” SVSQ 11 (1967): esp. 62–65 where Afanasiev seeks to justify Trullo’s shift to an exclusively celibate episcopate. 34 Joseph Allen, Widowed Priest: A Crisis in Ministry (Minneapolis: Light and Life Publishing, 1994). Allen remarried after the death of his first 240 Jack Turner

who decry such an application of the canons as unnecessary leniency. However, a strict application of all the canons is certainly a rarity. Strict application of the canons according to the letter is a minority position, one which is contrary to the spirit of Orthodox canon law and is not widely practiced in any case.35 There seems to be little reason for this strict application for the Western rite and not in other places. The challenge presented by the Western rite to Orthodox canon law is best situated within the larger question of the role of canon law in the Orthodox Church generally. Today within Orthodoxy there is considerable discussion of the role of canons within the discipline of the Church. John Meyendorff identified two opposing groups: those who insist on the maintenance of the letter of each canon on the one hand, and those who dispute the relevance of the canons on the other.36 There is also the special problem of Nikodemos the Athonite and his insistence on the duty to keep every canon, as already mentioned above. Practically, this creates inherent difficulties for the liturgical praxis of Western-rite Orthodoxy, since many of the canons from Trullo directly contradict liturgical customs that were already established when the council made its delibe- rations.

wife, but was allowed by Metropolitan Philip and Patriarch Ignatios IV of Antioch to retain his priestly standing despite the canonical ban on second marriages for clergy. The decision was not popular with other Orthodox churches in North America, including the Orthodox Church in America, which removed Allen from his teaching position at St Vladimir’s Orthodox Seminary. 35 Cf. Erickson “The Orthodox Canonical Tradition,” SVTQ 27 (1983): 155–67 and “Reception of Non-Orthodox Clergy Into the Orthodox Church,” SVTQ 29 (1985): 115–32. In my own experience, I have seen canons related to the qualifications for priests violated on several occasions by different jurisdictions. One case involved a primary school friend in the Antiochian Archdiocese who was ordained below canonical age of thirty. The second case was a colleague during my Master’s program who converted to Ortho- doxy in the first year of his degree program and immediately thereafter began a course of study leading to the priesthood at a North American Ortho- dox seminary. The time from his conversion to his ordination as a deacon was less than two years. 36 John Meyendorff, “Contemporary Problems of Orthodox Canon Law,” Greek Orthodox Theological Review (=GOTR) 17 (1972): 41. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 241

Some of the prohibitions do not create any particular problem. For example, the prohibition against forcing married men to practice perpetual continence if they wish to be ordained (or, more practically, to be celibate) seems destined to find no particular opposition from Western-rite clergy, since most are converts from the Anglican tradition and were already married in any case. Other canons, like forbidding strangled meats, are similarly unlikely to arouse any significant challenge to Western practice. However, the current Western-rite practice has been to offer Mass daily, even during the weekdays of Lent, which is specifically prohibited by Canon 52, and the maintenance of the fast on Saturdays. Both practices are still present in the annual Western-rite Ordo, as are changes to the fasting rules, including the allowance of meat, cheese, and dairy during parts of Great Lent, in contrast to Canon 56.37 This returns to the proper application of Orthodox canon law, where the canons themselves address a time and situation different from the present. Any updating of them awaits the much-promised “great and holy council” of autocephalous Orthodox Churches, and it seems unlikely that any significant change to canon law will happen apart from the council.38 Na- turally, this leads to a variety of practical applications of the canons, not all of them intelligible, even with regard to the Eastern rite. Saying that Western-rite Orthodoxy represents a canonical problem is not meant to suggest that the problem is the West’s failure to follow every canon of Penthekte: the Eastern-rite churches themselves do not follow the canons in every detail,

37 Antiochian Western Rite Vicariate, Ordo 2010 (Spokane: St. Luke’s Priory Press, 2010), n.p. The Ordo does prohibit meat on Fridays throughout the year, including Lent, but other days of Lent (except Ash Wednesday and Holy Saturday until the Easter Vigil) are kept with fasting, that is, reducing the number and volume of meals but not necessarily the types of food con- sumed. 38 Indeed, Meyendorff himself despairs of even a council’s ability to rectify the current crisis in Orthodox canon law without an effective understanding of the nature of canon law, which he concludes is primarily a theological rather than legal problem for the Orthodox Church: “Canonical Problems,” GOTR 17 (1972): 44. 242 Jack Turner

as we see in such examples as an Orthodox Christian marrying a Roman Catholic or a Lutheran. Such are not excommunicated, despite the Trullan requirement to the contrary.39 The real problem is that the Western rite has been included within the Orthodox Church without significant consideration to the place it should occupy in a canonical tradition which does not envision its existence. Nowhere is this more painfully obvious than in Schmemann’s disagreement with Sopko. The Orthodox Church is only in the beginnings of approaching the relationship between Penthekte and the West. And even when the point is raised, it is done in explicitly dogmatic form wherein the Eastern Churches do not pretend

to impose this discipline [regarding contrary Western customs] upon the practice of the Western Church, especially as they themselves do not practice everywhere the hundred and two canons mentioned. All they wished to do was maintain the ancient discipline against the abuses and evil innovations of the Roman Church.40

Such assertions, aside from being contrary to what we know of Western liturgical history, are ultimately unhelpful posturing based on false assumptions. While it is true that no Orthodox Church today observes all 102 canons, it is unlikely that when those canons were promulgated they were not intended to be followed or that the anti-Western canons were merely a “warning:” attempting to impose the discipline of Constan- tinople on all of Christendom, East and West, seems more likely. Even if the canons cannot be changed, it may nevertheless be possible to permit the contrary Western practices under the heading of oikonomia. While this term is commonly applied to sacramental practice it also admits of wider application and is

39 Frederick R. McManus, “The Council in Trullo,” GOTR 40 (1995): 86–87. 40 Gennadios Limouris, “Historical and Ecumenical Perspectives on the Penthekte Ecumenical Council,” GOTR 40 (1995): 70. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 243

analogous to the dispensatio.41 The problem with oikonomia is that it ultimately implies that there is something defective or irregular that the Church accepts or tolerates because there is some pastoral benefit. Such a designation would obviously suggest that there is something inherently wrong with the Western rite, which can be merely tolerated rather than seen as an authentic and legitimate expression of the Church’s catholicity. Using oikonomia would suggest the possibility of ultimately dispensing with the Western rite when a bishop or primate thinks such an irregular situation has run its course or should no longer be tolerated. (Such would not necessarily be based on episcopal caprice, but perhaps premised upon the argument that if conversions to the Western rite decline or cease altogether, it would be reasonable to conclude the Western-rite “experiment” had outlived its usefulness.) In short, the analogy between sacramental oikonomia and acceptance of Western-rite Orthodoxy is strained and does not lead down a desirable path. What, then, is to be done? The best course is twofold: first, there must be careful consideration of the reception of the council in the West. It is commonly stated, despite all the interpretative difficulties in this understanding, that for a council to be ecumenical its decrees and canons must be accepted by the whole Church, and consequently that “the canons of the Penthekte, before they became binding, had been accepted by the conscience of the Church.”42 There may be justification in questioning the ecumenical nature of the entirety of Trullo, as has been done historically in the West, but this seems an unlikely solution, especially to Orthodoxy. Perhaps it would be best to specifically reject the anti-Western canons as having present force. Such an approach would be doubly beneficial insofar as it would assist in resolving the problem of Western-rite Ortho- doxy while also showing ecumenical good will of Orthodoxy as a whole towards the West. Reception of the council has tended to focus on acceptance or rejection of the council by the papacy as representing

41 Erickson, “Reception of Non-Orthodox Clergy Into the Orthodox Church,” SVTQ 29 (1985): 116–17. 42 Limouris “Historical and Ecumenical Perspectives,” 73. 244 Jack Turner

“acceptance by the West.” That is problematic, as even the Roman Catholic theologian Aidan Nichols has recently recognized: “the pope is not the exclusive bearer of representation of the whole Church.”43 Even if he were, which pope should we follow? Popes Sergius, John VII, and John VIII definitively rejected the council in one manner or another, but Pope Con- stantine provided some acceptance while much later Pope Hadrian I acknowledged the ecumenical nature of all the canons. There are additional problems with papal acceptance or refusal of something as “ecumenical.” First, no Westerner participated in the council. Second, this approach violates the conciliar nature of the Church by reducing “the West” to one bishop (of Rome). The latter is especially troubling insofar as no one would claim that the archbishop of Constantinople represents the entire East during the present period or at any point in history, at least not in theoretical terms. With that in mind, while there is very little to demonstrate that the bishop of Rome accepted the council as ecumenical without any reservations, there is even less evidence that Trullo was received at all by other Western bishops. Dură is correct that canons of Trullo are found in later Western canonical collections, but we must be cautious in assuming a direct link between inclusion and reception.44 After all, all eighty-five of the apostolic canons were sometimes included in Western canonical collections during the Middle Ages, but other evidence consistently states that canons fifty-one through eighty- five were not given any authority. It is therefore not un- reasonable to conclude that the same situation could have occurred with the Trullan canons. Second, a better historical perspective is needed to explain the anti-Roman legislation within the canons of the council. Dimitri Salachas concludes that the primary purpose of the council was to provide ecclesiastical uniformity within the empire by imposing the discipline of the Byzantine Church

43 Aidan Nichols, Rome and the Eastern Churches: a Study in Schism, rev. ed (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2010), 372. 44 Dură, “The Ecumenicity of the Council in Trullo,” 247–250. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 245

everywhere.45 This is a conclusion which Dură also accepts,46 while Hefele designates several canons as direct attacks on the Roman church.47 This is further proved by the fact that Canon 2, in enumerating the canons which shall remain in force, omits any reference to any Western council, with the exception of Carthage (419) and Sardica (343–4), as well as an un- specified canon attributed to Cyprian.48 Failure to consider all but the Byzantine practice is perhaps a result of Justinian’s efforts to bring the recently incorporated Armenian territories into conformity with Chalcedonian Orthodoxy. In Byzantium, divergence in practice often indicated a divergence in faith. We see this point explicitly in the fight over leavened and un- leavened bread in the eleventh century and in the lists of Latin errors, in which ecclesiastical divergences rather than doctrinal disagreements predominate.49 Thus, the fathers at Trullo are attempting to create one doctrinally unified Church by imposing a uniform discipline, which was all the more important as territories in the East begin to be weakened and then con- quered by Islam. In such a context, there should be little sur- prise that Byzantine and even Greek customs would dominate the canonical legislation, even at the expense of Roman and especially Armenian customs.50

IV. Conclusions

There are several outstanding issues needing further attention. First, in the absence of a council to overhaul or update the canons, a clear and coherent hermeneutic for approaching Orthodox canon law, which envisions only the Byzantine rite, is needed to accommodate the Western rite. Such a hermeneu-

45 Dimitri P. Salachas, La Normativa del Concilio Trullano Commenta- ta dai Canonisti Bizantini del XII Secolo, 30. 46 Dură, “The Ecumenicity of the Council in Trullo,” 260–261. 47 Hefele, History of the Councils V, 224n.1, 228n.2. 48 Andrew Louth, Greek East and Latin West (Crestwood: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2007), 31. Louth attributes the lack of Western canons to “neglect, not deliberate intent.” 49 Cf. Tia M. Kolbaba Errors of the Latins (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2000), 32–69. 50 Ekonomou, Byzantine Roman, 220–221. 246 Jack Turner

tic needs to address the question of why canon law is applied selectively to the practice of the rite but leaves untouched customs that violate the canons of an ecumenical council (e.g., Nicaea I’s prohibition of the Eucharist on weekdays in Lent). In other words, greater attention needs to be given to the matter of how canonical pronouncements from ecumenical councils that contradict long-held Western practice are to be applied – whether by updating, ignoring, or abrogating them, or by using oikonomia as a way around them. Second, what is the status of a council, even an ecumenical one, that repudiates all alternative customs and practices, even if these are the customs of a then-orthodox Chalcedonian church? Is there a way to “re-receive” such a council? We should not assume that the Western rite, if it is to be authentic, can be haphazardly crammed into a Byzantine mould. Nor may an Orthodox Western rite be completely free from emendation. It seems ill-advised to let the Western rite simply continue in its present form as a result of either uninformed laziness or outright neglect. There are still other, more practical questions to be considered in relation to the typicon of the Church and resultant liturgical practices: is the liturgical discipline of the Orthodox Church orthodox in itself or is it Byzantine? Must Lent start on Clean Monday or may it start on another day because Clean Monday is Byzantine specifically? Is common fasting and feasting a sign of Orthodox unity or a sign of ritual unity? Are the normative fasting rules a matter of binding law or of ritual practice which can be abrogated if they are not natively part of another rite or if circumstances render the rules unintelligible? In some cases, these questions confront not only the Western rite, but Orthodoxy as a whole. Schmemann presumes these are in fact matters of faith51 and though he may be correct, he provides us with no means to follow his reasoning, at least not as regards the Western rite. Although these questions are difficult, perhaps even painful, for all those involved, the continued health of Western Rite Orthodoxy is dependent on

51 Schmemann, “Some Reflections on ‘A Case Study,’” 266–267. Western-Rite Orthodoxy as a Canonical Problem 247

answering, or at the very least asking, these questions, even if the answer is neither pleasant nor immediately forthcoming. I think, in the end, that the best path is to require the Western rite to fully develop a self-understanding of what it means to be a minority liturgical movement in a canonical tradition that does not envision its practical peculiarities, to say nothing of its mere existence.52 It allows the rest of the Ortho- dox Church to reconsider its notions of catholicity and to renew its relations with the West as both reconsider a canonical tradition which, from the perspective of the West, has historically been seen as divisive, hostile to Western traditions, and chauvinistic regarding religious life and discipline in Byzantium. If the Orthodox can show that this canonical tradition is not nearly so hostile to the West – that it is, indeed, capable of helpful emendation and pastorally and ecumenically sensitive development precisely in and for the West – then such a process may end up benefiting both East and West, and so strengthening the whole Church. To be certain, it is not the easy path, and it is my view that honest reflection, both on the nature of ecumenical councils generally and the ecumenicity of this council in particular, will not lead Orthodox down a road which they will like; at the very least, the end result will be a necessary repudiation of statements regarding the council’s relationship to the West such as those of Limouris as noted above.



52 Here, perhaps, as I suggested at the outset, the Western rite, as an island in a Byzantine sea, may be able to benefit from Eastern Catholic reflections on being a minority in a communion of churches overwhelmingly dominated by the Latins. Here see, inter alia, Robert Taft, “Eastern Presup- positions and Western Liturgical Renewal,” Antiphon 5 (2000): 10–22. 248 Jack Turner

Резюме

Перехід тисяч західних християн у Православ’я вик- ликав питання, чи завжди бути Східним православним означає використовувати виключно Східно-Римську (Ві- зантійсько-Константинопольську) літургійну традицію. Певне число парафій “Західного обряду”, що були створе- ні переважно в Антіохійській православній Церкві у Спо- лучених Штатах Америки, використовують літургійні форми, які історично походять з Римокатолицької та Англіканської традицій. Чи повинні такі парафії слідувати за Православними канонами у питаннях посту, обрахунку літургійного часу, визначення тривалости Великого посту та яку їжу тоді можна вживати? Адже завжди припус- кається, що потрібно використовувати саме Візантійську традицію, а тому часто західні практики прямо засуджу- ють. Чи слід дотримуватися таких канонів повністю чи в модифікованій формі? Якщо так, тоді хто і як повинен ці зміни вводити? Чи може потрібно їх відкинути в спільно- тах Західного обряду? Якщо так, тоді чим їх замінити, і як тоді буде встановлене таке нове канонічне законодавство? Автор розглядає постанови собору у Трулло та інші відповідні постанови, а завершує пропозиціями практич- них змін, відмічаючи складність даного питання, що вима- гає довшого та більш ґрунтовного дослідження.

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Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4, pp. 249–306

Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai

Šimon Marinčák

Abstract (Українське резюме на ст. 305)

After the Latin occupation (1204–1261), Byzantines hoped to restore the former glory and splendour of the Great Church. The monastic rite was adopted as the ordinary Litur- gy of the Hours, but the “Sung” Office was sometimes retained for major feasts. Subsequently, a new anthology emerged, the Akolouthia, containing a selection of the chants for the soloist and choir. In the fourteenth-fifteenth centuries radical innovations in the music itself also appeared: the addition of meaningless syllables ( ) into the liturgical texts; the lengthening and elaboration of chants for the all-night vigil’s ordinary; and an increased attention to purely musical techniques and new attitudes toward their application during worship. These innovations were not liturgically neutral, as they diminished the traditional one-to- one correspondence between words and melody. The reasons for such innovations are subject to various hypotheses, and are reviewed in the present study. Nonetheless, the music, as well as the additions, show continuity with previous traditions.

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250 Šimon Marinčák

Sigla and Abbreviations Used in this Article

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Introduction

The fourteenth century holds a special place in the history of Byzantine music. The “Chanted Office” that mingled with the preponderantly recited monastic rite gradually evolved into a synthesis of both. At the same time, a new type of liturgical- musical manuscript appeared – the so-called  – a kind of Byzantine Liber usualis. The fusion of liturgical usages was accompanied by musical modifications that were significant enough to be called a reform rather than just an embellishment, although some scholars would not agree with this description (see below). The all-night vigil of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries1 was dominated by the most elaborate

1 Unfortunately, I did not have access to the magisterial dissertation, Vesper und Orthros des Kathedralritus der Hagia Sophia zu Konstantinopel, Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 257

chant that Byzantium ever produced,2 and this “reform” was connected with “masters” (), the most famous being Ioannes Koukouzeles. As the musicologist Oliver Strunk pointed out, the problem of the “chanted” office is fundamentally a musical problem, which means that it cannot be solved satisfactorily without taking music into account.3 Simply by virtue of the fact that Byzantine services were (and still are) sung, music is vital as the medium through which liturgical texts are perceived in a specific time or place.4

The Development of the Akolouthiai Manuscripts

Anton Baumstark long ago pointed out that it is a fundamental characteristic of liturgy to adapt to the concrete circumstances of time and place.5 This highlights the obvious fact that politics, social questions, theology (etc.) modify and shape the ritual itself at every step of its development. Circumstances in the era we are concerned with here are the best proof of the accuracy of Baumstark’s statement. The Byzantine, i.e. the East-Roman Empire ( ), was experiencing much turbulence. The most significant factor in the beginning of its decline was the Latin occupation of Constantinople (1204–1261). Following the capture of the capital city, the Empire had to face the ambitious Balkan kingdoms, Mongol turmoil, civil war, and rising Turkish power. The Church suffered from inner divisions, as well as political strife, internal rivalries, patriarchal resignations and depositions, territorial by Gregor Hanke, as it was being prepared for publication when I did most of the present research. I admit that this constitutes a significant lacuna, which will have to be filled by anyone interested in a truly comprehensive treatment of the topic at hand. I was also not able to include the important insights of Stefano Parenti outlined during his plenary address at the Bi- annual Congress of the Societas Orientalium Liturgiarum in Volos, Greece, 2010. Inter alia, he notes how the adjective “Constantinopolitan” should usually be nuanced in any discussion of worship in order to factor in the city’s disparate usages. 2 Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody,” 167. 3 Cf. Strunk, Essays on Music, 115. 4 Lingas, Matins, 6. 5 Baumstark, Comparative Liturgy, 18. 258 Šimon Marinčák

contraction, and mass conversions to Islam. The loss of Asia Minor to the Turks in the fourteenth century particularly affected the Christian population that was often pressured to become Muslim.6 The demise of the Constantinopolitan “Chanted Office” started with the dispersal of the clergy of the Great Church of Hagia Sophia in 1204. Most prelates as well as other cathedral ministers, including the singers, left the capital, and either went to other centres, or traveled from place to place in what remained of the Byzantine Empire.7 The re-conquest of the capital and the Paleologan restoration (1259–1453) created a climate of new hope. However, as the events of the Latin occupation show, the danger of losing much of the heritage of the past was also prevalent. It is important to keep in mind that during the occupation no imperial schools were opened, and the long tradition of liturgical and musical life lost its continuity. Since most of the secular clergy were dispersed throughout the empire, they were unable to maintain the complex “Sung Office” of the Great Church. And again, monks were the ones who restored religious life. Thus, the Byzantine liturgical ordo underwent its second great monasticization of offices.8 The Stoudite synthesis was the only Byzantine liturgical usage to have endured the city’s Latin occupation, thereafter forming the basis for daily prayer in all Byzantine churches except the cathedral of Thessalonica, where, according to its archbishop, the “Chanted Office” remained in regular use after the empire’s restoration.9 These political and religious events exerted a strong influence on Byzantine liturgical life. Stational liturgies began to be given symbolic meanings, and these liturgies as well as the offices began to be celebrated within the churches. Since external development had been limited by all these circumstances, internal development flourished. The reaction to external

6 For a serviceable political history see Norwich, Byzantium, especially chapter 6 onward; Zástěrová, Dějiny Byzance, 274–337; for ecclesiastical history see Hussey, Orthodox Church, especially chapter 7 onward. 7 Symeon, Treatise, 21. 8 Taft, Byzantine Rite, 78. 9 Cf. Lingas, Matins, 41–42. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 259

disasters was an ecclesiastical renewal which, in the fourteenth century, arose in the monasteries and, eventually, culminated in the Hesychast movement.10 The continuous loss of territory that accompanied the gradual decline of the Byzantine Empire was also connected to a shortage of revenue, which had significant impact on the economy of the day. This development also affected the Great Church in Constantinople and other ecclesiastical institutions that held assets abroad.11 Financial shortfalls resulted in econo- mies which also influenced the appearance, sometime in the thirteenth century, of a new book: a liturgical anthology called the Akolouthia ( Arguably it was the outcome of the contraction of the repertories of a number of other books. Several scholars have confirmed that such anthologies include the common repertory for the protopsaltes (soloist) and the choir. This fact has persuaded almost all scholars that the Akolouthia consists of the repertories of two separate manuscripts: the Asmatikon, and the Psaltikon.12 The fact that it contained repertories previously found in discrete books made it easier to access, and at the same time easier to diffuse. This might have been one of the factors that helped the restoration movement to spread throughout the Byzantine Empire.13 The first of the two books, the Asmatikon () is a music book containing the special chants and refrains for the liturgy and the hours, sung by either a small group of singers, or by the choir, at Hagia Sophia.14 The Asmatikon was compiled probably in the eleventh century, or even earlier, at Con- stantinople. Since its repertory could be sung by a larger group of singers, it is set in a moderately – as opposed to highly – ornate style.15 The repertory of the Asmatikon consists of five general groups: (1) The repertory of the eight-Sundays period; (2) Hypakoai of feasts of the liturgical year; (3) Doxai; (4)

10 Hussey, Orthodox Church, 260. 11 On this, see Hussey, Orthodox Church, 252. 12 Cf. Conomos, “Papadike;” Conomos, Communion Cycle, 67–71; Williams, “Akolouthiai,” 187. 13 Conomos, Communion Cycle, 68–69. 14 Wellesz, Music and Hymnography, 144; cf. Conomos, Communion Cycle, 56. 15 Conomos, “Asmaticon,” 209. 260 Šimon Marinčák

Introits and Trisagia of the Liturgy; and (5) Koinonika of feasts.16 A Psaltikon (), on the other hand, is a music book containing special chants and verses intended to be sung by a soloist (usually the protopsaltes),17 hence set in a highly ornate style.18 The repertory of the Psaltikon can be divided into two categories: a) chants with melodies of free composition, in the elaborate style often called kalophonikon; and b) chants composed with characteristic musical formulae already in existence.19 Seven general groups comprise the contents of the Psaltikon: (1) Kontakia; (2) Hypakoai; (3) Koinonika; (4) Prokeimena; (5) Verses of Psalms; (6) Prokeimena before the Epistle; and (7) Allelouiaria after the Epistle.20 Even though the Asmatikon and Psaltikon differ in repertory, style, and function, joined together they are complementary.21 As a unit, they allow the proper conduct of all of the musical parts of the service. The combination of resources for both choir and soloist widened the appeal of the book and also made production cheaper. Since sales peaked only two centuries before the fall of the empire, its relative financial acces- sibility might well have been a reason for its enormous popu- larity, in view of the period’s difficult economic situation. Earlier attempts to combine two separate books into one have been noted, for example at the monastery of S. Salvatore in Messina in ca. 1225.22 According to Oliver Strunk, however, the compilations of the manuscripts from the scriptorium in Messina were not imitated elsewhere,23 which would mean

16 Di Salvo, “Asmatikon,” 154. 17 Di Salvo, “Asmatikon,” 137. Note that for technical reasons, throughout this article diacriticals will usually be omitted from Greek terms rendered in Latin script. 18 Wellesz, Music and Hymnography, 143; Conomos, “Psaltikon,” 1754. 19 Di Salvo, “Contacarium Ashburnhamense,” 57–58. 20 Di Salvo, “Contacarium Ashburnhamense,” 58. 21 Cf. Conomos, “Psaltikon,” 1754. 22 Di Salvo, “Asmatikon,” 138; Wellesz, Music and Hymnography, 144; for the date, see Conomos, “Psaltikon,” 1754. 23 Strunk, “S. Salvatore di Messina,” 48. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 261

that Messina had different reasons for undertaking them, and accordingly achieved different results. Note also that an Akolouthia can be described as a musical counterpart of the Horologion,24 though its repertory is larger. Incidentally, the manuscripts of the Akolouthiai bear different names. They are called the Papadike (), Mousikon (), Anthologion (), or Mathematarion (), etc.25 Some of the Akolouthiai also bear the name Taxis tôn Akolouthiôn (  ), since the Byzantine predilection for various Taxeis was known well before the fourteenth century.26 The contents of the Akolouthiai tend to be organized in a particular order, generally adhered to in all manuscripts. But individual copies may, of course, reflect the musical predilec- tions of a certain monastery or city, or even of a particular scribe.27 This ordering is different from that found in the Asmatikon and Psaltikon. Usually, the content of a single Akolouthia appears as follows:

• Table of musical signs with instructions regarding their use; • Order of Vespers; • Order of Matins; • Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom; • Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts; • Different additions for the Hours and Liturgies, for various feasts, etc.

The content of single manuscripts, including the chants within each section, is organized according to practical considerations. Their order is precise, corresponding to how every service was to be performed, with all of the necessary and in- dispensable chants. Thus, Akolouthiai appear to be universal handbooks intended for use by a Protopsaltes of any of the Byzantine churches. Although they offer a new type of codex

24 Strunk, “Antiphons,” 170. 25 Conomos, “Papadike,” 1578. 26 Cf. Taft, Byzantine Rite, 44. 27 Cf. Williams, “Akolouthiai,” 187. 262 Šimon Marinčák

for the time, some have argued that this was not intended as a work of reform, but rather of codification and embellishment.28 In the Akolouthiai, chants in the kalophonic style predominate. This style is chiefly recognizable by the use of the meaningless teretismoi (see below for a description of these) and by its demanding virtuosity. The earliest fourteenth-century Akolouthiai preserve vestiges of Constantinopolitan reper- toires of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,29 but they also introduce new material.30 The kalophonic style appears to have reached its zenith during the first half of the fourteenth-century. The number of kalophonic chants diminishes significantly in sources copied after 1350.31 It is believed that the famous Ioannes Koukouzeles was the first to edit this kind of codex. Since he was probably born toward the end of the thirteenth century,32 the movement to recover the pristine splendid rites typical of the Great Church before the Latin occupation must have influenced him strongly. Thus, the manuscripts of the Akolouthiai might have been an attempt to rebuild the pre-Crusade splendour of the cathedral liturgies.

The Sources Studied Here

The primary sources for the present study are seven Ako- louthiai manuscripts that represent the time frame from AD 1336, which is the date of the oldest extant Akolouthia manuscript, until AD 1453, the date of the fall of Constantinople.

• Athens EBE 2458 (AD 1336) • Athens EBE 2622 (1341–c1360) • Vienna Theol. gr.185 (1385–1391)

28 Cf. Panagiotides, “Musical use of Psalter,” 166. 29 Conomos, “Papadike,” 1578. 30 This discussion is explained in Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform. 31 Williams, “Polyeleos Psalm 134,” 22910. 32 His precise dates of birth and death are not known, but various hypotheses date his life mostly to the second half of 13th and the very beginning of 14th centuries. Further information is to be found in Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 304–377; and Gercman, “Documenta Koukouzelia- na.” Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 263

• Mt. Athos Iviron 985 (1425) • Sinai 1293 (15th century) • Vatican gr. 791 (15th century) • Athens EBE 2406 (1453)

The following is a brief description of each. Manuscript n. 2458 of the Greek National Library (Εθνική Βιβλιοθήκη της Ελλάδος = EBE) in Athens (henceforth “A”) is particularly important because it is the earliest extant copy. The date appears in the colophon. It is listed in the Catalogue of Polites33 and bears the name Papadike.34 Williams gives the information that the manuscripts with the call numbers 2396– 2643 formerly belonged to monasteries of northern Greece,35 which also means that this manuscript might have been in use in the area of Thessalonica. Manuscript Athens EBE 2622 (henceforth “B”) is given the name Akolouthia and/or Papadike.36 It remains to be cata- logued. Regarding its date, Strunk assigns it to the middle of the fourteenth century on the basis of its imperial acclamations that cite the name of Anne of Savoy, who reigned from 1341 to 1347.37 Williams, Lingas, and Conomos suggest a range between 1341–c1360.38 Touliatos in her dissertation gave the same range,39 but in a later article she suggests a more specific date, c1350.40 Manuscript Vienna Theol. gr. 185 (henceforth “W”) is described in the Catalogue of Hunger and Hannick.41 The Catalogue gives a date “around 1400.”42 Williams, Lingas, and

33 Polites, Κατάλογος, 457–460. 34 Touliatos, “Chant Repertory,” 181. 35 Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 10530. 36 Touliatos, “Chant Repertory,” 182. 37 Strunk, “Antiphons,” 170–171. 38 Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 76; Lingas, Matins, 65; Conomos, Communion Cycle, 73. 39 Touliatos, Amomos, 40. 40 Touliatos, “Chant Repertory,” 182. 41 Hunger-Hannick, Katalog, 370. 42 Hunger-Hannick, Katalog, 370. 264 Šimon Marinčák

Conomos date it from 1385 to 1391.43 Hannick further specifies its date from 1379 to 1391.44 This manuscript does not have a title.45 Manuscript Mt. Athos Iviron 985 (henceforth “I”) is described in the Catalogues of Lambros46 and of Stathis.47 It bears the name Mousika (Lambros) and Papadike (Stathis). It is dated precisely to 1425.48 Manuscript Sinai 1293 (henceforth “S”) is described in the Catalogue of Beneševič,49 where it is erroneously assigned to the fourteenth century. The Catalogue itself provides minimum information. Clark again erroneously lists it as a manuscript of the thirteenth century.50 This manuscript is given the name Psaltike (Clark) and    (Beneševič). It is dated to the fifteenth century.51 Manuscript Vatican gr. 791 (henceforth “V”) is described in the Catalogue of Devresse.52 Lorenzo Tardo attributes it to the Modern Oriental School.53 A further description of this manuscript is to be found on pages 244–245 of Tardo’s article. This manuscript is dated to the fifteenth century.54 Conomos specifies its date to the first half of that century.55 In Latin, it bears the title Officia liturgica varia cum notis musicis.56 Manuscript Athens EBE 2406 (henceforth “C”) is described in the Catalogue of Polites.57 This manuscript contains a vast repertory of chants sung in Thessalonica and some Athonite monasteries, and it appears to have been used in the

43 Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 75; Lingas, Matins, 65; Conomos, Communion Cycle, 73. 44 Hannick, “Akolouthia Asmatiké,” 245. 45 Folio 1r, cf. Hunger-Hannick, Katalog, 370. 46 Lambros, Catalogue, 244. 47 Stathis, Τα χειρόγραφα, 816–826. 48 Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 76; Touliatos, Amomos, 41. 49 Beneševič, Описание III/I, 18. 50 Clark, Checklist, 12. 51 Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 76; Touliatos, Amomos, 41. 52 Devresse, Codices, 315. 53 Tardo, “Codici,” 238. 54 Devresse, Codices, 315; Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 76. 55 Conomos, Communion Cycle, 73. 56 Devresse, Codices, 315. 57 Polites, Κατάλογος, 398–405. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 265

area around Thessalonica. It was copied in the very year the Byzantine Empire fell and outside its confines, in Serres.58 The contents of each of the manuscripts are summarized in the following table:

Athens Athens Vienna Athos Sinai 1293 Vatican Athens EBE 2458 EBE 2622 Theol. gr. Iviron 985 gr. 791 EBE 2406 185 […] Prologos Kratimata 1r-8r 1r-2v diafora 1r Didactic Didactic Didactic Didactic Methodos chant poem instructions instruction 3r-20v 3r-10v 1r-2v 3r-8v 1r-7v Vespers Vespers Vespers Vespers Vespers Vespers Vespers 11r-45v 8v-90r 3r-76v 9r-33r 2r-55v 8r-43v 21r-73r Matins Matins Matins Matins Matins Matins Matins 46r-142r 90v-327r 77r-233v 33v-131r 56r-236v 44r-105r 73v-216v CHR CHR CHR CHR CHR CHR CHR 142v-178v 327v-368v 233v-276v 131v-164v 237r-276v 106r-151r 217r-275v PRES PRES PRES PRES 369r-423v 277r-281v 277r-300v 276r-292v Additions Additions Additions Additions Additions Additions 179r-232v 282r-341v 165r-214r 301r-324v (151v-285v 293r-468v

All eight manuscripts reveal the same scheme:

I. Theoretical treatise and/or didactic chant II. Evening Office (Hesperinos) III. Morning Office (Orthros) IV. Liturgies of Chrysostom (CHR), and the Presanc- tified Gifts (PRES) V. Various additions to the Offices, Liturgies, and various other chants

The following are brief descriptions of these five sections.

I. Most of the manuscripts commence with a theoretical treatise that provides a preliminary exposi- tion of the basic principles of the music and notation. It usually precedes the music. This treatise is followed by the didactic chant called ,

58 Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 10534. 266 Šimon Marinčák

, attributed to Ioannes Koukouzeles.59 The original didactic chant was composed around 1300.60 It serves as an illustration of the principles of the theoretical treatise. The fact that most of the manuscripts contain the didactic chant and the instruction for the use of the symbols points to the conclusion that the new semiography and the musical style appeared in the thirteenth-fourteenth centuries and were very new, rather than a development of something pre-existing.

II. The second section of the manuscripts is the evening office. Usually it is Great Vespers. However, in the manuscript Sinai 1293, Little Vespers follow Great Vespers on folio 40r. Great Vespers is not infrequently followed by various classes of additional chants. It seems that there is no fixed rule regarding the kind of additions that tend to follow, or how many of them should be included. The most comprehensive work concerning Ves- pers in these akolouthiai is the thesis of Edward Williams.

III. The Morning Office follows. It seems that Matins was the principal, and most popular, of the Offices in Byzantium. The manuscripts provide various versions of different chants, chants written by different composers, and chants of various prove- nances. As with Vespers, Matins is followed by additions, such as variant polyeleoi, amomoi, and various stichera.

IV. Matins is usually followed by the Liturgies. First comes CHR, usually followed by PRES. In some manuscripts we find only CHR. In the manuscripts

59 This didactic chant has been thoroughly examined in two articles: Dévai, “Cucuzeles,” and Dévai, “Kukuzeles.” Its development has been recently examined in Troelsgård, “Development of Didactic Poem.” 60 Dévai, “Cucuzeles,” 156. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 267

under consideration, PRES is missing in A, I, and V.

V. In the concluding section of the manuscripts are additional chants. Among those that belong to the Eucharistic Liturgies we find kalophonic chants from Vespers and Matins, such as Polyeleoi, Amo- moi, Antiphona, Anagrammatismoi, Prokeimena, Allelouiaria, Megalynaria, Theotokia, Stichera, Makarismoi, Doxologiai, and Kratemata. Again, for these additions there is no system and they may vary from manuscript to manuscript. How- ever, there is a unifying element within almost all of these chants: generous use of melismas on Tere- tismoi.

The quantity of chants differs only slightly in our manuscripts. The largest body usually belongs to Matins. Second in the scale are the additions (or the conclusion of the manuscripts); third largest are the eucharistic liturgies, and then Vespers. The average length of the Akolouthiai consulted is about 325 folios. The following table illustrates the distribution.

I. II. III. IV. V. Total folios folios folios folios folios folios Athens EBE 2458 8 35 96.5 36.5 54 230 Athens EBE 2622 7.5 82 237 96.5 N/A 423 Vienna Theol. gr. 185 2 74 157 48.5 60 341.5 Athos Iviron 985 6 24.5 98 33.5 49.5 211.5 Sinai 1293 N/A 54 181 64 24 323 Vatican gr. 791 7 36 62 45.5 132.5 283 Athens EBE 2406 18 52.5 143.5 76 176 466

Byzantine “Treatises” Providing Information Regarding the Offices

“Theoretical” tracts (commentaries, ordines, etc.) written during this period are an inexhaustible source of information, witnessing to many changes, sometimes made by a single person, or in response to a “public need,” or as an effect of historical facta. They provide explanations and symbolic meanings 268 Šimon Marinčák

for the liturgies, but above all they attest to their actual order and schemata. For our purposes, the most important liturgical commentary is that of Symeon, archbishop of Thessalonica (1410– 1429) (henceforth “SYM”). Raes describes Simeon’s Com- mentary as the last evidence of the Byzantine “Chanted Office.”61 Although Symeon asserts that his cathedral was the last church in which the daily office was celebrated according to the pure Constantinopolitan rite of the Great Church, what he actually describes is the final stage of a mutual influence between the cathedral and monastic liturgical traditions.62 By his time, some compromises had already been made,63 and Symeon himself made some revisions in an attempt to satisfy popular piety, including the importation of hymns and kalophonic psalmody from the Neo-Sabaïtic offices.64 His commentary on the monastic forms of Byzantine Matins as- sumes the Philothean recensions of this service.65 Symeon’s newly expanded corpus of writings contains a wealth of information about the reformed system of cathedral worship he instituted at his cathedral, which was the final stage in the development of the “Chanted Office” and one of the more intriguing dead ends reached in its interaction with the Palestinian monastic rite of St. Sabas.66 The Diataxis of Philotheos Kokkinos, Patriarch of Con- stantinople (1353–54, 1364–76) (henceforth “FIL”), was the most influential work of the time. With his Diataxis, he codified liturgical rubrics which became the definitive practice in the Greek and Slavic Byzantine world. As patriarch, he was able to promote his Diataxis throughout the Byzantine realm. This made him the leading figure in the liturgical reform of his day.67

61 Raes, “Matines,” 205. 62 Lingas, Vespers, 421. 63 Cf. Strunk, Essays on Music, 114. 64 Lingas, Vespers, 427; PG 155:556; Symeon, Treatise 22; 556, 628, 648. 65 Lingas, Matins, 157. 66 Lingas, Matins, 15. 67 Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody,” 167. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 269

The last treatise providing supplemental information for the contextualization of our sources is the Exegesis (henceforth “EUG”) of Markos Eugenikos (ca1394–1445), metropolitan of Ephesus, and noted anti-unionist leader at the Ferrara Council.

Matins

Having laid the groundwork for our analysis of Matins in the Akolouthiai, we can now turn directly to this prominent service of the Byzantine Tradition. In the theoretical treatises, the office of Matins commences with the initial blessing:     …, omitted in the EUG. All three treatises then mention the Trisagion. Next come Psalms 19 and 20 (  ), preceded by Troparia in EUG alone. The Psalms are omitted in the SYM. FIL adds the Trisagion again, as a text sung immediately after the Psalms. Then the Lord’s Prayer follows, omitted in EUG. The priest then censes what have come to be called the “royal doors” ( ),68 the whole church and the people. After this he proclaims the opening   …, and the people answer: Amen. Next follows the    …, omitted in the FIL. It is sung three times. It is further followed by the twofold ,    …, mentioned only in the SYM. Turning to the Akolouthiai, we note that these, being musical manuscripts, provide singers with all the material necessary for leading the liturgies, strictly following the liturgical order. Thus, the material for Matins in all of our Akolouthiai commences with the final verse of the Hexapsalmos (Psalms 3, 37, 62, 87, 102, and 142), the …      (Ps 142:10b), immediately followed by the Doxology. This verse and concluding Doxology appear in full notated version. The only exception is S, where the presence of the Hexapsalmos is

68 The original difference between the “Royal, or Imperial, Doors” (doors leading from the narthex to the nave of Hagia Sophia), and the “Holy Doors” (central doors leading from the nave to the sanctuary) is discussed in Taft, “Skeuophylakion.” 270 Šimon Marinčák

mentioned only in a rubric.69 In the “treatises” the six Psalms of the Hexapsalmos are divided into two parts, each consisting of three Psalms.70 After each group of three Psalms there is the Doxology and the Alleluia, as witnessed by SYM and EUG (Doxology), and EUG (Alleluia). While the choir and/or people sing the Hexapsalmos, the priest reads the twelve prayers of Matins (omitted in the EUG). The most detailed description of the performance of the Hexapsalmos is in EUG. While SYM points only to a few aspects of this performance, FIL has:    ,    ,   .71 The Great Synapte ( ) follows. To the petition, given by a deacon, the people, led by a protopsaltes, make responses. Since these responses were well-known, it was not necessary to include them in the manuscripts. The Great Synapte is thus mentioned in just two manuscripts: B72 and S.73 However, the Great Synapte is alluded to in all three “treatises.” The next chant is the  ,74 which usually appears in all eight tones, sometimes also in supplemental versions. All our manuscripts contain only the incipit of each tone. This fact suggests that the melodies of the   were well known to the protopsaltes. The exception is S, where the   appears in full. During Great Lent, the  and the Trinitarian Troparia are sung instead of  . They are placed right after the   in the Akolouthiai, in all eight tones. Again, they appear only as an incipit. The Lenten part is missing in C and V.

69 …          ’  … [f. 56r]. 70 …’     ,    … Cf. PG 155:565–566. This fact has been observed also by Miguel Arranz. Cf. Arranz, Как молились, 65; Arranz, “Prières des matines,” 406. 71 PG 154:759–760. 72             ’ [f. 91v]. 73 …                [f. 56r]. 74 About the  , see Touliatos, “Byzantine Orthros,” 342– 383. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 271

In the “treatises,” the   is followed by the Ka- thisma and the  (in the EUG).75 Then comes the Little Synapte. SYM mentions also the readings from the (patristic) homilies (lectiones sacrorum sermonum).76 According to the actual order of the service, the next chants should be the Polyeleos ( – Psalms 134–135, in Lent also 136, “By the Rivers of Babylon), or the Amomos Psalm ( – Psalm 118). However, most manuscripts place them at the end of Matins. Such a manuscript layout retains the basic structure of the liturgical cursus, with the different musical versions of the Psalms being placed at the end of Matins. This might have helped the user to be prompt in using the manuscript. Such a layout is maintained by A, B, I, and W, where all the different versions of the Polyeleos and the Amomos are placed at the very end of Matins. None- theless, manuscripts C, S, and V place the Polyeleos right after the  . A very precise description of the order of service is to be found especially in S, where the Amomos is followed by the Little Synapte ( ), and the ekphonesis (). Here we see reference to the third Stichology followed by the Anabathmoi right after the Amomos and Po- lyeleos (f. 156r). Among the treatises, this psalmody is omitted in EUG. After the Polyeleos, another selection from the Psalms and hymns follows (Electi alii psalmi et hymni).77 These are also the Gradual Psalms ( ). They are omitted in EUG. The Antiphona psallomena come next in the manuscripts, followed by the Prokeimena of the Gospel (Resurrectional Pro- keimena) in the I, S, and V. However, the rest of our manuscripts indicate the beginning of the Canon. As might be expected, the “treatises” add more details. In these sources, the next unit is a Prokeimenon (omitted in the EUG), followed by the Little Synapte, and the  

75        ,          … PG 160:1177–1178. 76 PG 155:567–568. 77 PG 155:567–569. 272 Šimon Marinčák

(SYM only). These, of course, are chants introducing the Gospel. Starting with the Prokeimenon, and ending with the Canon, the “treatise” of FIL seems to be the most comprehensive. The description continues after the reading of Gospel, where the    (on Sunday) is sung. It is followed by Psalm 50 (). On Sun- days and feasts, Troparia are to be sung next. Then the Litê () follows (on feast days), with the twelve-fold  . Returning to our musical sources, we see that the performance of the Canon does not show any major differences in comparison with the description of its performance in other sources. The Canon and its performance in the Akolouthiai manuscripts have already been discussed in detail by Christian Hannick (see bibliography), so we will only briefly describe the order as indicated by the rubrics. Manuscript rubrication indicates the beginning of the Canon, commencing with its first Ode   . The beginning of the Canon is missing in A, C, I, and S. But in B and W it is clearly indicated. These two manuscripts give further details noting that hymnographic Kathismata with their Doxologies are to be sung (fols. 98r and 80r in B and W respectively). The Doxolo- gies in these manuscripts appear in all eight tones. (The Canon is entirely missing in V.) According to the “treatises,” the Canon is sung, divided into three parts. The most detailed description is given in SYM. His description was closely examined by both Arranz78 and Hannick.79 The description of the Canon’s performance continues with references to the Little Synapte, Kathisma, and the Troparia, all sung after the third Ode. SYM also adds the “discourses of the saints” (sanctorum scriptis argumenta).80 After the sixth Ode there is a Gospel reading, preceded by the Prokeimenon.81 The ekphonesis       is followed by the  . The ekphonesis is omitted in C, but all of our manuscripts include the latter. The

78 Arranz, Как молились; and Arranz, “Prières des matines.” 79 Hannick, “Performance of Kanon.” 80 PG 155:571–572. 81 W mistakenly has “after the seventh Ode,” cf. folio 81r. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 273

Doxology after the Gospel is mentioned in all the manuscripts, with the exception again of C. The “treatises” indicate a Doxo- logy and Synapte again after the sixth Ode, followed by the Kontakion. SYM notes that the Kontakion was already reduced to one Troparion.82 Next comes the Oikos () and the reading from the Synaxarion. EUG gives a very brief description noting that after the third and sixth Odes there are Kontakia and Oikoi.83 Next in the order is Psalm 50 (B 106r, W 85v, I 42r, and S 161r). While only a short incipit of the psalm in Mode II Plagal ( . ) appears in A and S, on the one hand B and W contain the incipit in all eight Modes. It is contained neither in C, nor in V. While in B Psalm 50 is mentioned together with the Troparion   , in I only the Troparion is mentioned, and the reference to Psalm 50 is omitted (B f. 107v, I f. 42v). In S there follows a kalophonic version of Psalm 50, and in W a Prologos to the same Psalm. After Psalm 50 the Great Katabasia follows. But it is mentioned in B and W only. The rubrics indicate that after the end of the eighth Ode of the Canon, the   is sung. The “treatises,” however, immediately indicate the Magnificat at this point. In the manuscripts it appears in all eight tones. It is omitted in A, C, and V. Next are the Megalynaria () for different feasts, sung after the ninth Ode of the Canon. In all the manuscripts there are several different versions of Megalynaria by various composers. The treatises note that at the end of the ninth Ode comes the “praising of the Holy Trinity with the angels.”84 The ninth Ode is concluded again by the Little Synapte. When all the Odes of the Canon have been completed, the   follows in W, while B says “after the end of the Katabasiai” (fols. 94r and 124r respectively). It is omitted in C, S, and V. In W there is also a large body of kalophony.

82   ,    … PG 155: 571–572. 83 …  … PG 160:1179–1180. 84 SYM: …       , PG 155:571–572; EUG: …’  , PG 160:1179–1180. 274 Šimon Marinčák

Next, after a Synapte, comes the   as indicated in W, folio 105v. The   appears in all eight tones, followed by the Exaposteilaria (). In- terestingly, the Exaposteilaria are indicated only by B. The treatises give the Exaposteilarion, or Photagogikon (  or ) right after the Canon. Reference to them is omitted in FIL. The Psalms of Praise (Psalms 148–150), the , come next. They appear in all eight Modes in all the manuscripts, except for C and V. They are followed by the Doxastaria (Doxology with the beginning of the Stichera of the Gospel), and the   , sung during Great Lent. After the end of the Doxastaria, the Domestikos concludes with   and the  . It is missing in A, C, I, S, and V. The rubrics of B and W indicate the entrance along with the priest’s ekphonesis. The “treatises” have the , concluded by a Doxology. EUG includes reference to “some other Troparia called Katabasiai.”85 Then the Great Doxology (  ) follows. It is missing only in C, and V. In S there is also mention of the Trisagion that follows the Great Doxology. The Great Doxolo- gy is similarly described in all three commentaries. It is followed by readings from both the Old and the New Testaments in EUG. The following scheme is best described in SYM. The Great Doxology is thus followed by the Trisagion and Our Father. Next come the Ektene and Synapte, followed by the prayer of Inclination, recited by the priest (omitted in EUG). Near the end of Matins, the Resurrectional Troparia, the    … and the  …, are appointed. Reference to them is omitted in A, C, and I. Interestingly, the reading of the Gospel is mentioned in B [f. 144v] and W [f. 111r]. Regarding the moment in the service when the Gospel was read, the documents provide five possibilities: (1) before the Canon at the end of the third stichology,86

85 PG 160:1179–1180. 86 FIL, PG 761–762; Arranz, Le Typicon, XXXVI. According to Mateos this is an old Jerusalem tradition, cf. Mateos, “Quelques problèmes,” 215. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 275

(2) after the ninth Ode,87 (3) after the ,88 (4) after the Great Doxology,89 and (5) after the sixth Ode of the Canon [W, f. 81r]. The first four were noted by Juan Mateos;90 the last, however, was not.91 Finally, there is the      (Confirma, Deus, reges…) (only in the FIL),92 the Troparion “More Honorable,” and the Dismissal (). Matins is concluded by the final blessing, found only in the rubric of B. The blessing was then followed by the   , missing in C and S.

Musical Units Placed after the Order of Matins

After the main corpus of Matins, the additions commence. The differences within their contents are only minute. The basic repertory was retained according to a general pattern that did not vary significantly from place to place. Thus, the general contents of the additions are as follows. Starting with the kalophony in B and W, they continue with the Prokeimena Anastasima ( ), omitted in I, and S. Different versions of the Polyeleoi and Stichoi are omitted only in S, and the Antiphona Psallomena are omitted in C and S. Allelouiaria are next, and appear in B, C, and W. Significant attention was paid to the Amomos, since it appears in relatively full form in all the manuscripts we have consulted. The    appears only in B and W. At the very end of the additional section, we find various versions of  , Troparia, Stichoi, etc. The whole body of Matins is finally concluded by the rubric indicating the beginning of the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom.

87 Mateos relates the hypothesis about this position to the Armenian tradition. Cf. Mateos, “Quelques problèmes,” 215. 88 Mateos, “Quelques problèmes,” 215. 89 This location derives from Constantinopolitan influence; cf. Mateos, “Quelques problèmes,” 215. 90 Mateos, “Quelques problèmes,” 215. 91 Cf. Hannick, “Performance of Kanon,” 143. 92 PG 154:763–764. 276 Šimon Marinčák

When taken separately, the manuscripts give us the following scheme:

A B W I S V C Hexapsalmos with Doxology + + + + + + Megale Synapte + +  … and Troparion + + + + + + +  and Trinitarian Troparia + + + + + Polyeleos or Amomos + + + Antiphona psallomena + + + Mikra Synapte with Ekphonesis + Anabathmoi + Canon:   , Odes 1-3 + + Kathismata with doxologies + + After 6th Ode: Prokeimena + + Exclamation      … + + + + + +  … + + + + + + + Gospel + Doxology + + + + + Psalm 50 + + + + Troparion “Anastas” + + Kalofonia + + Megale Katabasia + + After 8th Ode:  … + + + + After 9th Ode: Megalynaria + + + + + Megale kalofonia + +  … + + + + Kalofonia + Exaposteilaria + Synapte +  … + + + +  + + + + + Doxastaria, in the Great Lent the    + + + + +  … and the  … + + Entrance + + Trisagion + Megale Doxologia + + + + + Resurrectional troparia + + + Gospel + Final blessing +    + + + + + Additions: kalofonia + + Prokeimena anastasima + + + + Polyeleoi + + + + + Antifona psallomena + + + + Alleluiaria + + + Amomoi + + + + + + Ekloge tou Blemidou + + Other additions + + + + + Liturgy + + + + + + +

Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 277

The “treatises” give us the following scheme:

SYM FIL EUG Initial Blessing   … + + Trisagion + + + Troparia + Psalms (19, 20) + + Trisagion + Our Father + +          … – + + +     ,    ,    (3x) + + ,    ,        +  (2x) Hexapsalmos (first half), Psalms 3, 37, and 62 + + + Doxology + +  + Hexapsalmos (second half), Psalms 87, 102, and 142 + + Doxology +  + 12 Prayers of Matins + + Great Synapte + + +  … + + + Kathisma + + +  + Mikra Synapte + + + Readings from the holy sermons Polyeleos or Amomos + + Gradual Psalms + + Prokeimenon + + Mikra Synapte +  … + Gospel + +    (on Sunday) + Psalm 50 + Troparia (on Sunday) + Lite (if there is a feast) with the ,  (12x) + Canon: Odes 1-3 + + + Mikra Synapte + + Kathisma + Troparia + Canon: Odes 4-6 + + Kontakion + Oikos + Synaxarion + Mikra Synapte + + Canon: Odes 7-8 + + Magnificat, Ode 9 + + Mikra Synapte + + Exaposteilarion (Photagogikon) + +  + + Great Doxology + + + Readings from both Old and New Testaments + Trisagion + Our Father + Ektene + 278 Šimon Marinčák

Synapte + Prayer of the Inclination + + Troparion    … + + + Dismissal + + +

As is evident from everything that has been said thus far, the manuscripts and the treatises analyzed above transmit the final stage of the fusion of monastic and cathedral usages. We now turn to the euchologies.

The Euchologies

The early Euchologia transmit the presidential orations of the Constantinopolitan chanted services (  ), that is, the collections of prayers of a bishop or priest necessary for celebrations of the eucharistic liturgy, liturgy of the hours, mysteries (sacraments), and many other rites, from the more frequently to less frequently used.93 The oldest source is the Euchologion Barberini 336 (henceforth “EGB”), dated from the second half of the eighth century. It is of South Italian provenance, an Italian-Greek source of the Constantinopolitan tradition with Palestinian elements.94 It reflects pre-Iconoclastic forms and is extremely terse, presenting the individual prayers for the cathedral offices under brief titles with little additional rubrication. Its later copies bear signs of adaptations to Palestinian monastic usages, along with an increasing quantity of rubrics and diaconal texts.95 The “Constantinopolitan Euchologion” edited by Miguel Arranz (henceforth “ECP”) is a reconstruction of the Constan- tinopolitan Cathedral Euchologion,96 based on a comparison of two Euchologia: Euchologion Bessarionis (ms Grottaferrata I) and Euchologion Strategios (ms Paris Coislin 213). While the former is probably not an eleventh-century source after

93 Cf. Parenti, “Eucologio Slavo,” 5. 94 Parenti-Velkovska, Barberini, XXIII; Arranz, Как молились, 47, 93, esp. 165, and 188. 95 Lingas, Matins, 51; Arranz, “Asmatikos Orthros,” 123–125. 96 Arranz, Eucologio Costantinopolitano, 7. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 279

all,97 the latter is certainly a Constantinopolitan text of that period.98 Strategios, then, represents the Ritual, Pontifical, and Missal, as they existed around the eleventh century. The Euchologion of Santa Maria del Patirion di Rossano (henceforth “EPR”), transmitted by manuscript Vatican gr. 1970, dates from the twelfth-thirteenth centuries.99 It was copied in the monastery of the Patir di Rossano (South Italy), based on the Constantinopolitan model of the eleventh century. It seems to contain Constantinopolitan patriarchal usages.100 The aforementioned texts complement the mosaic of Con- stantinopolitan Matins of the fourteenth-fifteenth centuries. The order of Matins in the Constantinopolitan Euchologia commences with a series of eight “morning prayers” accompanying the eight introductory psalmodic antiphons of the weekday Office. The EGB describes a very old and the least developed order of morning worship in which prayers of Pannychis have not yet been included. In contrast, both the ECP and EPR are already in a more advanced stage of development. Every single prayer is assigned to a particular part of the service.101 While there is no reason to doubt that on Sundays the first prayer remained tied to the first Antiphon, it is presently unknown how the seven remaining prayers were matched with the three Sunday Antiphons.102 Both the ECP and EPR fully agree on the course of the Pannychis. Three Antiphons are sung at the beginning, followed by the Dis- missal, and the prayer of Inclination. A similar order is transmitted also for the Midnight Office. After three Antiphons there is a dismissal, followed by the prayer of Inclination. All three Euchologia present the exact same structure.

97 Arranz, Eucologio Costantinopolitano, 9–10; Parenti-Velkovska, Barberini, XXXIII. 98 Arranz, Eucologio Costantinopolitano, 14; Parenti-Velkovska, Bar- berini, XXXVII. 99 Korza, Eucologio Rossano, 17–18. 100 Korza, Eucologio Rossano, 16; Parenti-Velkovska, Barberini, XLII; Arranz, Как молились, 12516; Arranz, “Prières des matines,” 72. 101 Arranz, Как молились, 65–132; Arranz, “Prières des matines,” 411– 436. 102 Lingas, Matins, 78. 280 Šimon Marinčák

In the case of Matins (Orthros), however, there are some differences. All three Euchologia concur regarding the first eight prayers. The prayer preceding the Gospel is to be found only in ECP. It prescribes the reading of the Gospel after the sixth Ode of the Canon. The EGB does not contain the morning prayer of the Gospel, nor does the EPR. Prayers for Psalm 50, as well as for the , appear again in all of the Eucho- logia. The subsequent prayer of the entrance appears only in the EPR. Next come three prayers (the prayer of the Synapte for the Catechumens, and two prayers of the faithful), missing in the EPR. The concluding section is represented by the Dismissal (prayer 12), and prayer of Inclination, transmitted in all three Euchologia. The EPR adds, however, the Oratio Thuris, which is found neither in the EGB nor in the ECP. The following table illustrates the ordering of the prayers in the Euchologia:

[1] 1st prayer of Matins [2] 2nd prayer of Matins [3] 3rd prayer of Matins [4] 4th prayer of Matins [5] 5th prayer of Matins [6] 6th prayer of Matins [7] 7th prayer of Matins [8] 8th prayer of Matins [9] Gospel [10] Psalm 50 [11]  [?] Entrance [XII] Synapte for Catechumens [XIII] 1st prayer of the faithful [XIV] 2nd prayer of the faithful [12] Dismissal [13] Prayer of Inclination [?] Prayer of Thurible

According to Arranz, morning prayers 1–8 correspond to eight Antiphons. Prayer 10 is described as belonging to Psalm 50. The  are represented by prayer 11. Prayer 9 is for the Gospel. Prayers XII, XIII, XIV, and 12 belong to various litanies, and finally, prayer 13 to the Dismissal.103 Based on the research of Miguel Arranz, we can propose the following outline of the Constantinopolitan   This

103 Arranz, Как молились, 67; Arranz, “Prières des matines,” 435. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 281

order precedes the previously discussed synthesis of the fourteenth-fifteenth centuries:104

I. – 1st fixed Antiphon (Ps. 3, 62, 133) – 2nd–7th varying Antiphons (Ps. 118) – 8th Antiphon (Dan. 3:57–88), and the Entrance into the nave

II. – Psalm 50, sung with the Troparion proper to each feast – Psalms 148–150 (), followed by “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel” – Great Doxology, Trisagion, Troparion105

III. – Prokeimenon and Gospel – Litany of the Catechumens – Two prayers of the faithful – Litany of Supplication – Blessing with the bowing of heads – Dismissal

The Sources Considered Together

It is now time to synthesize the material found in the four different kinds of sources studied thus far. Of course, one must keep in mind the distinct functionalities of the various categories of manuscripts cited here. All the sources referred to in this paper were intended for different uses. Manuscripts used by singers naturally contain material necessary for singers. Obviously, texts and melodies which singers did not use are not included in their manuscripts. Similarly, Constantinopoli- tan Euchologia contain only the presider’s prayers and no music. Symeon’s commentary makes comments, Philotheos’s Diataxis gives instructions, and the Exegesis of Markos Eugenikos gives explanations. Although all of them differ in detail in accordance with their objective, they make up a mosaic and provide us with a provisional schema of Matins.

104 Arranz, Как молились, 67; Arranz, “Prières des matines,” 409–410. 105 Schema in Mateos, Typicon I, XXIII, omits the Troparion. 282 Šimon Marinčák

A compilation of these sources is found in the following table. The table is made up of four columns. The first column represents the   (after Arranz106 and Ma- teos107). The same outline is also found in Alexander Lingas’s dissertation.108 The second column represents the distribution of the twelve morning prayers, drawn up from the Euchologia. The precise distribution of the prayers is also to be found in Arranz. The third column represents the order of Matins as found in the rubrics of the musical manuscripts. The fourth column represents the order of Matins as described by Symeon of Thessalonica, Philotheos Kokkinos, and Markos Eugenikos in their treatises.

  Euchologia Manuscripts Treatises Opening Blessing Initial Blessing Trisagion Troparia Psalms (19, 20) Trisagion Our Father “         …” “   ,    …” “,    …” Hexapsalmos, Ps Hexapsalmos I, Psalms 3, 37, 142: 10b with and 62 Doxology Doxology  Hexapsalmos II, Psalms 87, 102, and 142 Doxology  [1-8] 1st-8th prayer 12 Prayers of Matins of Matins Great Synapte Great Synapte Great Synapte The Three Psalms [1] 1st Morning Prayer  …, and  … the beginning of Troparion of the Resurrection For Great Lent –

106 Arranz, “Asmatikos Orthros,” 126–132; Arranz, “Prières des matines,” 409–410; Arranz, Как молились, 67. 107 Mateos, Typicon I, XXIII–XXIV. 108 Lingas, Matins, 222–223. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 283

 and the Trinitarian Troparia Kathisma  Mikra Synapte Mikra Synapte “Readings from the holy discourses” Amomos “Stasis” 1 [2-7?] 2nd-7th Polyeleos or Polyeleos or Amomos (118:1-72) Morning Prayer Amomos Mikra Synapte Mikra Synapte with Ekphonesis Amomos “Stasis” 2 [2-7?] 2nd-7th (118:73-131) Morning Prayer Mikra Synapte Amomos “Stasis” 3 [8?] 8th Morning (118:132-176) Prayer Benedicite: Dan. 3:57-88 with concluding Troparia Mikra Synapte Anabathmoi Anabathmoi Antiphona psallomena Prokeimenon Mikra Synapte  … Gospel    (on Sunday) Psalm 50 [10] Psalm 50 Psalm 50 Pentekostaria Troparia (on Sunday) Lite with the ,  (12x) Canon:   Canon: Odes 1-3 , Odes 1-3 Mikra Synapte Kathismata with Kathisma doxologies Troparia Canon: Odes 4-6 After 6th Ode: Prokeimena Exclamation      …  … Gospel Doxology and Psalm 50 Megale Katabasia Kontakion Synaxarion Mikra Synapte Canon: Odes 7-8 After 8th Ode:  … Magnificat, Ode 9 284 Šimon Marinčák

After 9th Ode: Megalynaria  … Mikra Synapte Synapte Mikra Synapte  … Exaposteilaria Exaposteilarion (Photogogikon)  [11]    Doxastaria, in Great Lent the    (Ps 9:2) Entrance   and the … Great Doxology Great Doxology Great Doxology Trisagion and Resurrectional Troparion troparia:    …, and  … Prokeimenon and [9] Prayer of Gospel Possibility of Readings from both Old and Resurrectional Gospel in between New Testaments Gospel Trisagion Our Father Litany of [XII] Synapte for Ektene Catechumens Catechumens (Ektene) Litanies of the [XIII] [XIV] 1st-2nd Faithful and two prayer of the faithful prayers Synapte of Synapte Supplication [12] Dismissal Prayer of Inclination [13] Prayer of Final blessing Prayer of Inclination and Final Blessing Inclination Troparion    … Dismissal Dismissal “  ” Prokeimenon   and various additions

Musical Remarks

We now turn more directly to several specifically musical questions. There has been fertile discussion in both East and West regarding the character of innovations that appeared in Byzantium in the thirteenth-fifteenth centuries. The changes in the music were so significant that the word “reform” seems to be more than appropriate. However, as hinted above, some Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 285

authors prefer to label this as a “blossoming” because it is marked by a new form of written melody which preexisted, but was not actually recorded.109 The manuscripts of the time reveal two main traditions: that of Constantinople, and that of Thessalonica. Some authors add a third one, the Latrinos. Several remarks regarding the musical settings of all these traditions have already been made by scholars such as Egon Wellesz, Dimitri Conomos, Diane Touliatos, and Edward Williams. The last has commented that the traditions were more conservative and less embellished in Constantinople, while that of Thessalonica on the other hand, is described as extremely kalophonic. That of Latrino, is considered to be somewhere in between.110 Such melodic elaboration was new in Byzantium, and might have been considered a significant innovation, since in earlier periods there had been opposition to melodic elaboration.111 But a question hangs over the reason for embellishments as well as for the innovations. It seems that the former repertory of both the Asmatika and the Psaltika declined ra- pidly at Constantinople. This might have been caused by invasions of both Latins and Ottomans,112 and all innovations might have been in response to demand.113 We know that the music of Byzantium resembles Grego- rian chant in some of its features. The main feature of Constan- tinopolitan music is the free rhythm, even though the notion of “free rhythm” is not very precise, as the rhythm in choral music cannot be absolutely free.114 Other features are monodic performance, and especially its organization into eight modes, the so called “oktoechos,” which consists of three elements: (1) proper text; (2) proper intonation and/or melody; and (3) the musical scale itself (proper mode). The “father” of Byzan- tine music, St. John of Damascus, also called “the first source

109 Panagiotides, “Musical use of Psalter,” 159; cf. also Stathis, Τα χειρόγραφα, 60–61, 89. 110 Williams, “Polyeleos Psalm 134,” 229. 111 Cf. Quasten, Music and Worship, 94–120. 112 Strunk, Essays on Music, 244–245. 113 Cf. Conomos, Communion Cycle, 69. 114 For more details, see Hannick, “Probleme der rhythmik.” 286 Šimon Marinčák

of Byzantine chant,” supposedly created the Oktoechos. How- ever, what he actually organized was only the text. There is no mention in the sources of his influence on the music. There is also the fact that the origins of the eight-mode division probably extend beyond Byzantium to ancient Near Eastern musical practice.115 It seems that the eight Byzantine modes are related to eight western modes, although they probably do not share a common origin.116 The musical innovations of the thirteenth-fourteenth centuries, attributed to Ioannes Koukouzeles and his fellow composers, gave singers the ability to alter the “surface” of Byzan- tine liturgy without changing its official texts.117 The musical structure of kalophonic chants appears as a rhapsodic assemb- lage of melodic fragments linked sequentially, which is not all that different from the compositional methods of previous times. Kalophonic settings, especially the Kratemata, show a predilection for a series of repeated pitches, a percussive vocal effect often accompanied by rapid changes of pitch level at the distance of a perfect fifth.118 Koukouzeles, also called “the second source of Byzantine chant,” created a new type of book and no doubt codified the contemporary florid and more embellished style of his own and his immediate predecessors. As some authors have stated, he does not reform the melody to such an extent that the term “reformative” or “new” might be justified.119 In any case, the developments can be reduced to two:

• Cultivation of an embellished or “kalophonic” musical style of unprecedented virtuosity that often featured extended vocal ranges, textual troping, and even textless vocalizations on nonsense syllables (Kratemata and Teretismoi);

115 Levy, “Byzantine Music,” 555; cf. also Sheminith in Hebraic music, Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 8. 116 We will discuss this in more detail in a forthcoming article. 117 Lingas, Matins, 8. For more details, see also Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody.” 118 Williams, “Akolouthiai,” 188. 119 Panagiotides, “Musical use of Psalter,” 160. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 287

• Composition of highly expressive multiple settings of the same text, a radical departure from the tradition of anonymous music tied closely to a given text or group of texts.

Although the texts of a given service could remain the same in various circumstances, its overall impact might now differ radically depending on the music chosen for the occasion by a cantor or choirmaster.120 We must note, however, that some scholars believe that the Kratemata are not actually a “new development” of the fourteenth century. Thus Ioannes Koukouzeles may not be their author.121 Some research has suggested that the origin of the nonsense syllables be moved much earlier, to Gnostic formulas and ancient Greek music.122 Thus there is the possibility that the nonsense syllables originate in antiquity, and make a reappearance in Byzantium.123 One of the first “quasi Krate- mata” in Byzantine chant is to be found in the Asmatika of Grottaferrata (manuscripts I; VI; VII; XIII).124 As noted already, these nonsense syllables are generally called Teretismoi. The meaning of the term Teretismos has not been explained satisfactorily. Lorenzo Tardo suggests an origin in antiquity, in Aristotle, where the verb  means “to sing without the words.”125 It might also come from the syllables themselves (terere, tiriri, te ti to re ri ro ru), or perhaps from the word  – whistling, trilling.126 Perhaps the meaningless syllables were used as an aid to vocal phrasing. Another explanation is that tererem comes from the Latin words Te regem.127 A possible way in which the meaningless syllables started to be inserted into the liturgical text gives Tardo his hypothesis that the syllables tererem were

120 Lingas, Matins, 8–927. 121 Bamboudakis, “Κρατήματα,” 355. 122 Touliatos, “Nonsense Syllables,” 231–237. 123 Touliatos, “Nonsense Syllables,” 237. 124 Di Salvo, “Asmatikon,” 156. 125 Tardo, Antica Melurgia Byzantina, 821. 126 Cf. Touliatos, “Nonsense Syllables,” 233–234; cf. Liddell-Scott, Lexicon. 127 Bamboudakis, “Κρατήματα,” 356. 288 Šimon Marinčák

first inserted into popular songs as simple vocalizations, where the sounds were la la la ra la la.128 The use of Teretismoi in Byzantine chant was twofold. They were inserted into existing liturgical texts, and they also constituted the text of new musical compositions. They developed into new genres, though they have received inadequate scholarly attention. These new genres are called Kratemata, new compositions with new melodies in the contemporary “spirit.” They were sometimes re-elaborated twice or more.129 The Kratema seem to be the most developed expression of the Teretisma, without melodic coherence to a preceding Prologos, yet still forming together with it a liturgical unit. Some of the Kratemata bear names like “bell,” “viola,” or “trumpet.” E. Bamboudakis believes that the word “Kratema” is the equivalent of the word “Bastama” (), which simply means “to hold” or “to keep.”130 D. Touliatos states that the title “Kratema” is derived from the function of nonsense syllables in Byzantine chant, which is to prolong (“”) the melody.131 In Kyriakos Philoxenis’s dictionary of Greek Church music,132 the Kratema is explained by its relation to particular hymnography and to the book known under the name Kratematarion. It is difficult to place these “new” compositions and elaborations in a proper liturgical context. With their appearance the old syllabic repertories did not cease to exist, and were still used at Byzantine services. However, the question of their origin and purpose remains unresolved. Did the new additions (elaborations) serve as a simple prolongation of the text in order to make liturgical services longer? Or did they give the soloist-singer the opportunity to show off his singing and musical skill, and the beauty of his voice? Or is their appearance the result of other factors? The most basic explana-

128 Tardo, Antica Melurgia Byzantina, 82. 129 Cf. Hannick-Wolfram, Gabriel Hieromonachos, 20. 130 Bamboudakis, “Κρατήματα,” 353. 131 Touliatos, “Nonsense Syllables,” 239. 132 Cf. Hannick, “Значение,” 93. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 289

tion is that while their purpose is not entirely clear, they certainly “filled time.”133 E. Bamboudakis suggests that the purpose of the Kratema was to embellish the melody.134 Kratemata may also have been used as optional codas for traditional settings of various chants.135 If so, this would also lend credence to Bam- boudakis’s hypothesis. But their early use might have an even simpler explanation. If we consider the possibility that the re- elaboration of Byzantine chant by great masters was caused by the “inflation” of classical art, it may be that these foreign syllables were added to the text primarily to help the singer sing all the melismas precisely.136 The new melismatic chants required an exceptionally beautiful voice and an extremely high level of technical skill on the part of the singer. The addition of the meaningless syllables might have helped to control the voice, and provide a means for better articula- tion.137 This practice might have become so popular among the singers that they started to compose new melodies on the meaningless syllables, first perhaps for rehearsals and as warm-ups, later maybe also to fill the empty space during certain liturgical actions. We can suppose that with the attempt to restore the former splendor of Byzantine worship a ritual “extension” occurred.138 This might have resulted in the need to cover the extended duration of the liturgical action with singing. In other words, in cases when a liturgical function was still proceeding but the chanting of the prescribed song had ended, the singers might have sung Teretismoi simply to fill the remaining time. They could choose between the repetition of the whole song, or its extension. With the vastly enlarged repertory found in the relevant manuscripts, the possibility of the latter makes such a hypothesis quite plausible.

133 I obtained this explanation during a discussion at the University of Virginia with Prof. Miloš Velimirović, to whom I am very much indebted. 134 Bamboudakis, “Κρατήματα,” 353. 135 Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody,” 162. 136 Conomos, Communion Cycle, 60. 137 Cf. Touliatos, “Nonsense Syllables,” 237. 138 Conomos, Communion Cycle, 71. 290 Šimon Marinčák

Another hypothesis suggests that the introduction of the Teretismoi in the fourteenth century is a musical response to Hesychast theology.139 Some sources, such as hieromonk Gerasimos Vlachos’s “,”    (Constantinople 1850),140 assert that it was an attempt by hesychasts to express through music the inexpressible, to pronounce the unpronounceable, to explain the unexplainable, to bring nigh the unapproachable, to grasp the inconceivable. Nonsense syllables are, according to such a hypothesis, the symbols of the incomprehensible deity, represented by “un- speakable words” (  – 2 Cor 12:4).141 In addition to such theological exegesis, we find other attempts to explain the “how,” “when,” and “why” of Krate- mata, as well as the Teretismoi. However, to pursue them would take us beyond the scope of the present paper.142 The most recent explanation states that the nonsense syllables served as a substitute for instrumental music.143 Notwithstanding the aforementioned, in the absence of a fourteenth-century text explicitly establishing a causal link between monastic spirituality and contemporaneous musical developments, it is possible only to present an admittedly cir- cumstantial case linking Koukouzeles’s revolutionary style of chanting to Hesychasm.144 Going beyond the question of meaning, when we consider the first use of nonsense syllables, both Teretismoi and Krate- mata are woven into the normal sequence of a hymn, usually in cadence. Musically, the Kratema bears a thematic relationship to the hymn by maintaining the melodic formula.145 Kratemata often extend to several pages. The Prologos and Kratema differ from other genres of kalophonic chant of the fourteenth- fifteenth centuries by their frequent unity with each other and presence in equal quantity, and so they represent parts of a

139 Ήσυχία means stillness, or quietude, cf. Liddell-Scott, Lexicon. 140 Quoted in Bamboudakis, “Κρατήματα,” 3533. 141 Bamboudakis, “Κρατήματα,” 354. 142 For more information about its theological exegesis, see Bambouda- kis, “Κρατήματα.” 143 Touliatos, “Nonsense Syllables,” 241. 144 Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody,” 167. 145 Conomos, Trishagia and Cheroubika, 96. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 291

complex extension of established canonical hymns. Stathis has tried to determine the origin of these kalophonic genres, which we can find in collections entitled . On the basis of a survey of the main fonts of Greek manuscripts, he has concluded that the Kratema was in use before the Prologos.146 Corresponding to its name, a Prologos precedes a Kratema, or introduces it. The Kratema is read after the Prologos. How- ever, the textual and melodic relationship between the Prolo- gos and the Kratema, as well as their liturgical function, remains concealed. By comparing both genres in the various manuscripts, we notice that they are not always separated from each other. Not all of the Prologoi and Kratemata are indicated clearly. A border between Prologos and Kratema might be found only in the Martyria indicating the Mode. In some cases there is no difference between the Kratema and the Prologos. The question of how the kalophonic chants were performed and what their liturgical function was is also revealed. Instructions concerning the actual performance of kalophony in typika are spotty. More precise information is to be found in Church music treatises of the late Byzantine period, such as that of Gabriel Hieromonachos. According to instructions written by Gabriel, we know that kalophony (Prologos and Krate- ma) was sung after the conclusion of all of the Psalmody, although Prologoi repeat separate verses of Psalms. In fact, “kalophony” in this context seems to mean singing ad libitum. After the end of a grouping of Psalms, for example, the  , Polyeleos, and Amomos, the domestikos then turns to a kalophony, chooses a verse of a Psalm for the Prologos and joins these to a Kratema. It would be a mistake to look for melodic connections between Kratemata and the preceding Prologoi. From the in- dications of neumatic manuscripts, it is obvious that the singer could unite any Kratema or Prologos, if he kept the same tona- lity. On the other hand, the Prologos differs from kalophonic verses by virtue of the fact that it coincides with the text of the Psalm, neither changing the order of words nor inserting any

146 Cf. Hannick, “Значение,” 93. 292 Šimon Marinčák

elements of Teretismos. The Prologos differs from Anapodis- ma by the fact that in Anapodisma the text of the Psalm is mixed with Teretismoi. Similar insertions of nonsense syllables can be found in other traditions, as well, for example in the Slavic source, the Uspensky Kondakar,147 and some Arme- nian sources.148 Byzantine melodies are not exactly composed note-to- note; it is more of a formula-to-formula composition. The whole compositional process would progress from the com- bining of two or more formulas, and whole melodies would derive from the linking of these longer musical phrases.149 Such composition was undoubtedly based on certain rules, but it seems that these were never written down.150 The way to re- trieve them must therefore be deductive – from final compositions to the single melodic units-formulas. Scholars have agreed on three kinds of chants in Byzantine music, with a fourth added later:

I.   (Heirmologic chants). The melodies of the Heirmologic chant are syllabic, simple and steady. They are fast moving and involve more recitative chanting than actual singing.

II.   (Sticheraric chants). The melodies of the Sticheraric chants are melodically more developed with a higher number of em- bellishing notes. Compared with the Heirmologic chants, they are of more moderate movement and contain some melismas.  III.   (Papadic chants). The melodies of the Papadic chants are rich in vocalizations, and embellishments. These melodies are very slow and grave, very solemn, and highly

147 Conomos, Communion Cycle, 62. 148 I am indebted to Rev. Daniel M. Findikyan for this information. 149 Amargianakis, “Interpretation,” 23; cf. also Raasted, “Rhythm,” 68. 150 Cf. Amargianakis, “Interpretation,” 23. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 293

melismatic, where a single syllable can be assigned a whole melody.151  IV.   (Kalophonic chants). Within the earlier three groups a fourth later appeared, the kalophonic. It appeared from the fourteenth century onwards, is very rhythmical, isosyllabic, and extremely melismatic.

The growth of the repertory during the seventh and eighth centuries meant the end of the oral tradition and the beginning of a written record for music.152 The very first notational signs were very probably imprecise and ambiguous. The shapes of the signs underwent a long process of development from the earlier “linear” to the later “round.” The layout of the earlier neumes seems to be somehow “interrupted,” while the later is more “continuous.”

EXCURSUS

Relevant Aspects of Byzantine Music

Byzantine Notation

A detailed examination of the various kinds of Byzantine notation is beyond the scope of the present paper. Nonetheless we need to briefly glance at this history as it aids in the understanding of certain dimensions of our paper.153 The very first notation that appears in the manuscripts is the so called Ekphonetic notation (from the Greek  “exclamation”). It consists of several signs that serve as a mnemonic aid, a “reminder” of the melody. It was principally

151 Tiby, Musica bizantina, 45; cf. Tardo, Antica Melurgia Byzantina, 332–336. 152 Strunk, “Early Byzantine Notations,” 41. 153 For more information, consult Wellesz, Music and Hymnography, 261–310; Tiby, Musica bizantina, 67–104. 294 Šimon Marinčák

intended to help the singer with the melody line and ca- dences.154 A more developed system of notation appeared later and is called Early Byzantine (or Paleobyzantine) notation. It makes its appearance c.950 and survives until c.1200. These neumes represent only approximate intervals. We can only gain the original tunes written by this notation through comparison with later versions. The Middle Byzantine, also called the Round notation, represents a further step in development. It appeared c.1100 and lasted until the end of the Byzantine Em- pire (c.1450). At this stage, the neumes already reveal exact interval values. The important thing is that these neumes fix the old music; they do not represent a new music.155 So even though every copyist made slight changes while copying manuscripts, the music remained substantially the same. The last notation that is of interest to us is the Late Byzan- tine, also called Koukouzelian, notation. (The notation that appeared after the Koukouzelian, that is, the Modern, or Chrysanthine, is beyond the scope of this paper). Roughly speaking, it lasted from c.1400 until 1821. As a new, highly ornamented music started to be composed at that time, the need for some additional signs was identified. Basic neumes remained unchanged, but new signs indicating precise nuances of performance (e.g. rhythm, accents, etc.) of the new kalophony had to be invented.156 This notation is thus crowded with symbols of all kinds. These new signs were copied into the manuscripts mostly in red ink in order to distinguish them from the interval signs. The difference between Middle Byzantine and Late Byzantine notation is not significant. As was noted, the former precisely fixed the tunes, which possibly originated in the tenth-eleventh centuries, if not earlier. The latter, on the other hand, while still retaining the system of Middle Byzantine notation, supplied it with new, additional signs intended to give a summary view of various conventional figures, or to

154 An excellent study on this topic is Høeg, Notation ekphonétique; see also Riemann, Byzantinische Notenschrift. 155 Cf. Tillyard, Handbook, 14. 156 Tillyard, Handbook, 15. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 295

indicate the primary or the secondary accents with greater pre- cision.157 Ottavio Tiby points to certain oriental influences that shaped the music of the fourteenth century when, he says, we see “melismatic formulae … and … an Arabic-sounding flo- rescence which became a stable part of the ecclesiastical music.”158 Together with Lorenzo Tardo, he shares a negative view of the new music created in the fourteenth-fifteenth centuries on Mount Athos and in Constantinople. They consider this a decay of “authentic” Byzantine music, and relate this to the rise of dilettante musicians, who had lost a sense of genuine Byzantine music.159 He calls the newly invented single symbols “barbarian,” and declares them to be “difficult to perform.”160 The Akolouthiai manuscripts are written in Middle Byzan- tine notation and Koukouzelian, or Late Byzantine, notation referred to above. As already mentioned, the invention of the latter has been attributed to Ioannes Koukouzeles. The main difference between the two lies in an increased use of signs which affect rhythmic and dynamic nuances of the melody. And even though use of those signs greatly increased in fourteenth- and fifteenth-century manuscripts, it has been proven that most of them had already been invented by the time of Koukouzeles.161 These notations were widely used from the twelfth century to 1821. In table 6 (after Tiby) we can see how various scholars categorize the notation used from the tenth to the nineteenth centuries:162

157 Tillyard, Handbook, 15. 158 Tiby, Musica bizantina, 82. 159 Tardo, Antica Melurgia Byzantina, 76, 81–82. 160 Tiby, Musica bizantina, 87. 161 Tillyard, Handbook, 15; Williams, Koukouzeles’ Reform, 319. 162 Cf. Tiby, Musica bizantina, 76. 296 Šimon Marinčák

MMB Gastoué Riemann Thibaut Tillyard Wellesz Paleobyzantine Paleobyzantine Archaic Constantino- Primitive Primitive notation (900- notation (10th notations of politan nota- notation notation 1200) century) 11th-12th tion (11th cen- (Early Byzan- (1000-1200) Mixed centuries (two tury) tine) (950- Byzantine stages) 1200) notation, or Thin notation - Primitive Constantino- of a point and - Intermediate politan (11th a line (12th- Last stage century) 13th century) (Coislin notation) Mediobyzan- Hagiopolitan Round Hagiopolitan Middle Middle tine notation notation notation or Damascene Byzantine or Byzantine or (1200-1400) without the notation (13th Round nota- Round nota- great century) tion (1100- tion (13th-14th Hypostaseis 1450) century) (13th-14th century) Neobyzantine Koukouzelian Notation from Koukouzelian Late Byzan- Late Byzan- notation (1400- notation 1300 with notation (13th- tine notation tine notation 1821) great 19th century) (1400-1821) (14th-19th Hypostaseis century) Greek modern Greek modern Greek modern Greek modern Greek modern Greek modern or Chrysanthine or Chrysanthine or Chrysan- or Chrysan- or Chrysan- or Chrysan- notation (from notation (from thine notation thine notation thine notation thine notation 1822) 1822) (from 1822) (from 1822) (from 1822) (from 1822)

Modes

At this point we must also make a brief reference to the Modes as these relate to developments in the late Byzantine period. A comprehension of the Modes is the entrance to the interpretation of Byzantine music. At the same time it is one of the most complex and difficult tasks of Byzantine musicological research, since they were influenced by such factors as mathematics, the physical sciences, philosophy, theology, politics, etc.163 Also, without a study of the oral tradition and oral transmission, one cannot understand the complexity and diversity of the Modes in Byzantine chant.164 Early Christianity very probably adopted the Greek theoretical system, or, at least, made it the foundation for some of its musical development. However, having adopted it, Christianity related this system as a liturgical phenomenon to its own practice within

163 Cf. Alygizakis, “Interpretation,” 143. 164 Arvanitis, “Byzantine Chant,” 111. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 297

the bounds of the theological symbolism and doctrine of the Church.165 The old hypothesis claimed that the Byzantine Modal system is a wholly diatonic one,166 and Oliver Strunk attempted to prove this in one of his studies.167 However, the musical system of the Eastern Church is polymodal, and it seems that this system was introduced and systematized by Ioannes Kou- kouzeles.168 This means that not only diatonic Modes are present, but chromatic and enharmonic ones as well. It also confirms that the splitting up of melodies into formulae was in fact occurring. Of course, it is evident that for each formula there are various possible interpretations.169 The eight Modes of the early Christian Church are, of course, based upon Greek modal scales (the Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, and Mixed Lydian, names which though Eastern in derivation were assigned to the Modes by Western scholars). These, of course, are called the “authentic Modes.” The remaining four scales are “Plagal,” or derived, Modes. They bear the same names with the addition of the Greek prefix “Hypo” (Lat. sub). The prefix “Hypo” means that their relative starting notes are to be found by descending four notes, i.e. below the authentic. Actual Eastern nomenclature is slightly different. We have four authentic Modes, and each of those has its plagal. Thus, the first authentic has a first plagal, the second authentic has a second plagal, the third authentic has its barys, and the fourth authentic has a fourth plagal:170

Authentic () Plagal () Tiby Strunk Tiby Strunk I. Ananes Ananéanes I. Aanes Anéanes II. Neanes Néanes II. Neeanes, or Nenano Néanes III. Nana Anéanes III. Aneanes Ánes IV. Hagia Hágia IV. Neagie Nehágie

165 Alygizakis, “Interpretation,” 143. 166 Strunk, “Tonal System,” 3–4. 167 Cf. Strunk, “Tonal System,” 16. 168 Cf. Alygizakis, “Interpretation,” 143. 169 Cf. Amargianakis, “Interpretation,” 29. 170 Tiby, Musica bizantina, 42–43. Strunk, “Intonations and Signa- tures,” 20. 298 Šimon Marinčák

Oktoechos:171

I. II. III. IV. I. II. III. IV. Authentic la si do re Plagal re mi fa sol

The basis for the interpretation of Byzantine music of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries is the     by Ioannes Koukouzelis. In composing his method he followed Ioannes Glykeos. However, in spite of many similarities between these two methods, they nonetheless differ in many respects.172 Because Byzantine chant was and remains a living reality, new exegeseis continued to emerge. Hence, already in the fifteenth century there was a variety of exegeseis with a mani- fold nomenclature of signs, referring either to the graphic shape of the signs, or to the movement of the melody indicated by the sign, or to other features of the chant practice.173 Inci- dentally, exegeseis of the method were later made by Petros Peloponnesios (†1778), Gregorios Protopsaltes (†1821) and Matthaios of Vatopedi (†1849).174 Throughout all of those treatises a unity of the interval signs and the hypostaseis is stressed.175 Also the singers were taught to put the theseis together correctly in each Mode, so that characteristics of the three genres of Byzantine chant (i.e. Sticheraric, Papadic, and Heirmologic) could be preserved.176 The interpretation of Byzantine musical notation has been a matter of controversy among Greek and Western scholars. From the Western point of view the musical transcription of neumes from the musical manuscripts of the fourteenth- fifteenth centuries might seem easy at first sight. In particular, the Handbook published by Tillyard offers a precise method of

171 After Tiby, Musica bizantina, 42. The table containing all Byzantine Modes is to be found in Tiby, Musica bizantina, 56. 172 Stathis, “Ή Μέθοδος,” 191. 173 Stathis, “Ή Μέθοδος,” 196. 174 Stathis, “Ή Μέθοδος,” 189. 175 Cf. Hannick-Wolfram, Gabriel Hieromonachos; and Schartau, Ano- nymous Questions. 176 Stathis, “Ή Μέθοδος,” 199. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 299

transcription with references (presumably) to all nuances and exceptions. The transcription offered by the Handbook is a face-to-face transcription. Nonetheless, transcription is more complex and difficult than it seems. The enormous effort of deciphering Byzantine musical notations among Western scholars has found its opponent in the “Greek school,” represented by Grigorios Stathis. He points to the disadvantage Western scholars labour under, due to insufficient knowledge of the New Method of notation, a shortcoming caused by differences in musical background, worship, and difficulties presented by the Greek language.177 When the reform of the Three Teachers in 1814 provided Greek Byzantine music with the current notation (called “Modern” or “Chrysanthine”), new interpretations also emerged. One of the first scholars to offer fresh ideas about the meaning of the musical signs was Simon Karras.178 The conclusions of George Amargianakis’s research179 point to the stenographic character of the old notation. This means that in single neumes more than just a single interval movement is indicated. Chants like the stichera have a syllabic appearance in the manuscripts, and so Western scholars transcribed these chants in this way. But the Three Teachers provided a highly melismatic interpretation, where to each old sign there corres- ponds a very large number of additional signs, and consequently of notes, after their transcription. This means that the chain of the neumatical signs gives only a skeleton of the melody, which must be filled in by the oral performance.180 Such performance, however, would make the liturgies extremely long. Research by Simon Karras and Ioannis Arvanitis points to the conclusion that the original form of the heirmoi and stichera was syllabic.181 This is how Western scholars read the neumes. The main difference, however, lies in the rhythm. In

177 Stathis, “Analysis,” 177. The “New Method” of notation is explained on pages 179–195. 178 Arvanitis, “Byzantine Chant,” 108. 179 Amargianakis, “Interpretation,” 23–51. 180 Arvanitis, “Byzantine Chant,” 108. 181 Arvanitis, “Byzantine Chant,” 109. 300 Šimon Marinčák

the West, rhythm was accepted as free and oratorical. Greek scholars, on the other hand, are of the opinion that the rhythm (or as they call it, the “pulse”) in Byzantine chant is binary though with a few exceptions in which triple rhythmical feet are found. These were evident at very specific points of the chants. Central to this conception of rhythm is the fact that an accented syllable can fall on the upbeat if it is on a higher note than at least one of its neighbouring syllables.182 From among Western scholars, the one who agrees most with the Greek viewpoint is Jørgen Raasted, who claims that the rhythm of Byzantine music is constructed of pulses and pauses. Thus, it alternates between stressed and unstressed notes.183 The Byzantine stenographic theory, which cancels the value of the interval signs, provoked much discussion in the West, where it was partially rejected.184 This theory also provoked much discussion in the East, where some counter positions were also proposed. Markos Vasileu (1856–1919) and Ioannes Sakellarides (1853–1938) seem to be the best known opponents of such a theory.185 Fortunately, we have the analysis of Markos Vasileu. His views on Byzantine notation and music give a solid summary of the problematic. These are worth quoting in their entirety:186

1) The signs on manuscripts of Byzantine music conceal melodies which, even in the most propitious circumstances (comparative research and study of sources, familiarity with oral tradition, prescient ability) can only be reconstituted approximately;

2) The first Byzantine notations (those nowadays known as Chartres and Coislin) were stenographic and they were explained by a third system, the so- called Middle Byzantine notation; this latter nota-

182 Arvanitis, “Byzantine Chant,” 110. 183 Raasted, “Rhythm,” 67–68. 184 Cf. Tillyard, “Byzantine Notation.” 185 Cf. Dragoumis, “Markos Vasileiou,” 45. 186 Dragoumis, “Markos Vasileiou,” 46–47. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 301

tion was not stenographic, but came to be gradually misconstrued as such;

3) This misinterpretation of the third system started in the monasteries, when the monks began arran- ging notated Byzantine melodies, adding extended melismas, in order – for reasons best known to them – to prolong the liturgy and services. The variant rendering of notated Byzantine melodies was transmitted from the monasteries to the cities where it was “cut and modified,” presumably because people there had less time to spend in church;

4) Byzantine music continued to be sung in its origin- nal form by priests and lay cantors but, as time passed and as diverse local influences prevailed, it was modified and altered;

5) Contrary to Psachos’s contention, Petros Lampa- darios ho Peloponnesios was not a reformer of Byzantine notation, for he neither added to nor subtracted anything from the notation of his predecessors. He simply recorded the new sticheraric and heirmologic chant, as they existed after the fall of Constantinople; he attempted to record with more signs those melismas which had not yet been written down, but which were orally attached to the melodies of the old sticheraric and kalophonic chant;

6) The Three Teachers of the nineteenth century – Chrisanthos, Gregorios, and Chourmouzios – these actually reformed Byzantine notation, but contrary to Psachos’s contention, they did not transfer medieval Byzantine melodies into their system, but only the variant elaborated forms, which had been worked out in the monasteries;

302 Šimon Marinčák

7) Later teachers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, so often cited by Psachos, are usually at variance with their predecessors on the issue of Byzantine notation and also disagree amongst themselves. They are in opposition to “the logic and the very nature of things.” For this reason the corresponding testimonies of Byzantine teachers (Hagiopolites, Pseudo-Damaskenos, Plousiadenos, Manuel Chrysaphis, and the monk Gabriel) are often more useful, even though large parts of their texts are somewhat obscure and deficient;

8) Metrophonia was not, as Psachos proposed, a reading of the outline of the melody intended as a preparation of its interpretation, but the actual rendering of the melody by the choir, without the su- perfluous melismas of the soloists;

9) The melos was an “artistic elaboration and extension which the cantor created in solo passages, having the original psalm (asma) as his theme, the oral instruction of his teacher as his guide, and his personal conception and inspiration, graced by his vocal talent, as his equipment.” Despite Psachos’s futile attempts to convince us otherwise, singing according to melos could never be crystallized into a single system, as its rules were continually changing according to the historic period and the individual singers. This instability made it difficult to learn, “for each one strove to learn not the set, lucid and specific part of it, but the obscure and vague, which was considered more lofty and worthy of attention”;

10) Psachos’s theory that the Byzantines did not write their syllabic chants is untenable: a) because such chants are, in fact, encountered in music manuscripts (e.g. the Prosomoion of the Second mode   ), b) because their notation Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 303

signs were sufficient and adequate for recording melodies of even greater complexity, and c) because they had no reason not to record them, unless we presume – rather ludicrously – that they consciously wished to conceal them from future generations;

11) In formulating a valid system for transcribing Byzantine music, Vasileiou, like Psachos, suggests the so-called retrospective method, according to which different scripts of the same chant are studied in parallel, and conclusions on the uninter- preted versions are drawn from the interpreted ones.

Since the new handbook regarding the transcription of the Middle Byzantine musical notation by Christian Troelsgård has not yet been published,187 Tillyard’s Handbook remains the only accessible manual in the West. Fortunately, Western scholarly research is not entirely rejected in the East. The Greek scholar, M. Dragoumis, is of the opinion that the Wes- tern manner of transcription is actually the most advanced, and that scholars like Tillyard and Wellesz in particular, solved the problem of Byzantine musical notation.188 Although a little later he shifts his opinion in favour of solutions proposed by Vasileiou, the Western approach is still accepted as a reasonable one.189 Tillyard’s Handbook has the advantage of offering a plausible answer to the question: “how?” However, the answer to the question “why?” as well as the “definitive manner of transcription” cannot yet be resolved, and they remain obscure.190

187 The MMB advertised that it was forthcoming in 2000: Ch. Troels- gård, A New Introduction to the Middle Byzantine Musical Notation, Copen- hagen. 188 Dragoumis, “Markos Vasileiou,” 48. 189 Dragoumis, “Markos Vasileiou,” 48. 190 Cf. Amargianakis, “Interpretation,” 29. 304 Šimon Marinčák

Conclusions

After the Byzantine restoration in 1261, there was a desire to restore the former glory and splendor of the Great Church of Hagia Sophia. The monastic rite was adopted as the ordinary Liturgy of the Hours, while the “Sung Office” was relegated to occasional revivals on major feasts.191 At the same time a new kind of musical manuscript, called the Akolouthia, emerged. The Akolouthia is a kind of anthology, containing a selection of all the chants for the soloist and choir necessary for a proper celebration of the services. The historical, political, ecclesiastical, and economic context surrounding the appearance of this manuscript points to several hypotheses regarding its appearance. However, a definitive answer remains to be found. But the compilation of this anthology was only one of several changes during this period. Innovations in the manuscripts, besides the new structure of manuscripts themselves, generated several new elements. In the fourteenth-fifteenth centuries we can observe certain radical innovations in the music as well. First, there was a new type of musical embellishment. The re-elaboration of Byzantine chant by great masters was possibly caused by the “inflation” of classical art, perhaps influenced by the political and ecclesiastical penury of fourteenth- and fifteenth-century Byzantium. It was based on the addition of meaningless syllables ( ) of vague origin, widely inserted into the liturgical texts. Second, the length and complexity of the newly composed chants for the all-night vigil’s ordinary, points to a shift of emphasis away from the verbal level of canons and stichera, that is, of the “propers.” Third, an increased attention to purely musical techniques and new attitudes toward their application within Byzantine worship is implied.192 As was noted above, these new changes are transmitted in the anthologies, Akolouthiai.193

191 Lingas, Matins, 128. 192 Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody,” 167. 193 Lingas, “Hesychasm and Psalmody,” 161–162. Byzantine Matins in Fourteenth-Century Akolouthiai 305

Nonetheless, the music, as well as the additions, show continuity with previous traditions, and this continuity is also proven by the numerous references to traditional or “older” compositions. The changes made by the Maistores and their pupils only affected the length of the pieces, and, specifically involved an addition of small doxologies or kratemata.194 Thus, music was subjected to wide melodic embellishments. From a technical perspective, Koukouzeles and his colleagues perfec- ted the kalophonic idiom of Byzantine chant and established its primary musical and textual forms.195 Such innovations were not liturgically neutral, because they ended up down- playing the traditional one-to-one correspondence between words and melody. The reasons for such innovations are subject to various hypotheses. There is the possibility of technical reasons (lost artistic continuity connected with a certain “inflation” of art), spiritual reasons (attributed to the hesychast movement), or even external influence (Arabic and Turkish music and singing style). It is very difficult to assert that any one of these was the most significant, or uniquely determinant of the changes in liturgy and art. The truth is probably to be found in a synthesis of these factors. This proves again that liturgical and musical developments require a complex examination of various strata of evidence with a comparative approach.

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Резюме

Після латинської окупації (1204–1261), візантійці на- діялися відновити колишню славу та велич Великої Церк- ви. Монастирський обряд був прийнятий за звичайне Цер- ковне правило, але “співані” (катедральні) служби були збережені за більшими церковними святами. Згодом з’яви- лася нова збірка, Аколуфія, яка містила вибрані співи для

194 Cf. Panagiotides, “Musical use of Psalter,” 167. 195 Lingas, Matins, 167. 306 Šimon Marinčák

соліста з хором. У 14–15 століттях у самих піснеспівах з’явилось нове радикальне нововведення: додавання скла- дів, які не мали значення ( ) у літургійні тексти; видовжування й ускладнення піснеспівів для нез- мінних частин Всеношної служби; збільшення уваги до суто музичних аспектів і нових способів їх застосування у богослуженні. Ці нововведення не були літургійно нев- тральними, оскільки вони зменшили традиційне тісне співвідношення між словом та мелодією. Існують різні гі- потези щодо причин виникнення цих нововведень, і вони розглянуті у цьому дослідженні. Тим не менше, піснеспіви як і додатки, вказують на тяглість з попередніми традиція- ми.

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Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4, pp. 307–329

The Servant Church: Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity1

John A. Jillions

Abstract (Українське резюме на ст. 329)

Nicholas Zernov’s thinking on Orthodoxy and ecumenism is re-examined thirty years after his death. Zernov, along with Sergius Bulgakov, Nicholas Afanasiev, Lev Zander, An- ton Kartashev, and Paul Evdokimov, advocated an approach to ecumenism somewhat at odds with the Orthodox “mainstream” as represented by Georges Florovsky. Critics such as Alexander Schmemann, John Meyendorff, and Paul Schneirla dismissed Zernov’s ideas as unworkably romanticized and doctrinally suspect, but others, including Kallistos Ware, offer a more positive assessment of Zernov’s proposal for limited intercommunion between Catholics and Orthodox. The author, citing Maria Skobtsova, concludes by arguing that Zernov’s proposal for intercommunion will only work if Orthodox Christians take the lead in living out a radical kenosis and seeking to be the first servants of unity.

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1 This is revised version of a paper given at the 2010 conference of the Orthodox Theological Society of America on the theme “Exploring the Icon of the Servant Church,” held at Saint Vladimir’s Seminary, Crestwood, NY June 3–5, 2010. I am grateful to conference participants for their comments. For a brief general introduction to Orthodoxy and ecumenism see my “Orthodox Christianity in the West: the Ecumenical Challenge” in Mary Cunningham and Elizabeth Theokritoff, eds., The Cambridge Companion to Christian Orthodox Theology (Cambridge, 2008), 276–291. 308 John A. Jillions

In the days of my youth, when I first found the church, I was impatient in my zeal for the truth. I was convinced that only we, the Orthodox, and the Russians in particular, had preserved the authentic apostolic tradition and had the fullness of the sacraments. I wanted to save everyone else by bringing them into Orthodoxy. But gradually I became convinced that we don’t have a monopoly on truth.

Nicholas Zernov (1898–1980)2

Introduction

Much of Nicholas Zernov’s life-work was connected with thinking about Christian unity and the ecumenical movement. His Oxford DPhil dissertation was on “The Unity of the Church and the Re-union of the Churches,” and, in addition to many articles on the subject, he wrote two major books on Christian unity: The Reintegration of the Church: A Study in Intercommunion (1952) and Orthodox Encounter: The Chris- tian East and the Ecumenical Movement (1961). But Zernov was not always an ecumenist. Early in his theological education he was skeptical of ecumenism and, as Kallistos Ware reports, “doubted whether it was permissible even to say the Lord’s Prayer in common with other Christians.”3 This view

2 Nicolas and Militsa Zernov, eds., Za Rubezhom: Belgrad, Parizh, Oksford:, Chronika sem’i Zernovykh [Beyond the Border: Belgrade-Paris- Oxford: a Chronicle of the Zernov Family] (Paris: YMCA Press, 1973), 556. 3 Kallistos Ware, “Nicolas Zernov (1898–1980),” Sobornost 3 (1981): 16. There are still serious doubts in the Orthodox world as to whether prayer is possible with the non-Orthodox. In a 2007 interview about ecumenism for the official ROCOR website, in which he defended Orthodox participation in the face of calls to reject all forms of ecumenical activity, Metropolitan Hilarion (Alfeyev), Ware’s doctoral student at Oxford and now head of the Moscow Patriarchate’s Department for External Church Relations, was asked specifically about joint prayer at the WCC General Assembly in Porto Alegre (2006). While maintaining conservative practice in this regard, he nonetheless argued that ancient canonical sanctions against “prayer with heretics” do not apply to most other Christians and that therefore “common prayer” with them (though not joint liturgical prayer) should be possible.

Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 309

began to change when he visited England in 1923 to participate in a conference of the Student Christian Movement (SCM). For the first time, this brought him “face to face with

“As far as ‘prayer with heretics’ is concerned, there are ancient canons which no one ever repealed. But in interpreting these laws, I feel we should attentively study the context in which they appeared. Who were these ‘heretics’ referred to in these rules? Arians who rejected the Divinity of Jesus Christ, the ‘Pneumato- machs’ who rejected the Divinity of the Holy Spirit, the ‘Euti- chians,’ who rejected the human nature of Christ, etc. Neither the Catholics nor the Protestants reject the Holy Trinity … [or] the Divinity of Christ or His human nature. That is why we cannot equate them with the heretics referred to in the canons of the Ancient Church.”

“Even in that era, when the canons were written, they were not observed with rigor. It is known, for example, that Basil the Great, as archbishop of Caesaria in Cappodocia, had under him fifty chorepiscopi, most of whom were Arians. Almost none of the clergymen under him confessed the Divinity of the Holy Spirit (and he himself, in order not to disturb his flock, avoided openly speaking of the Divinity of the Holy Spirit). Basil knew the opinions of his clergymen, but continued to serve with them. And he did not demand of the former Arians who rejoined the Church that they confess the Divinity of the Holy Spirit: ‘It is enough for them to confess the Nicene faith, and the rest they will come to understand through a long period of communion with us.’ So today, following the Nicene (more specifically, the Nicene-Constantinopolitan) Creed can be accepted as the criterion for joint prayer with representatives of one Christian community or another.”

“Also, when canon law speaks of the inadmissibility of prayer with heretics, it refers, in my opinion, to prayer of a liturgical character, not to ‘common’ prayer. When you invite a non-orthodox Christian to your home, could you not together with him, read the Lord’s Prayer before the meal? Or at inter-Christian conferences – could we not, before a meeting begins, read ‘O Heavenly King?’ Or, as an Orthodox Christian, when entering a non-Orthodox temple, even during a service, could you not raise a prayer to God? One can pray in the forest, one can pray in a bus (filled, maybe, with atheists or those of other religions), but one cannot pray in a Christian church, even if it is not Orthodox? Honestly, I do not see the logic in that.”

(http://www.russianorthodoxchurch.ws/synod/engdocuments/enart_inter viewrocor.html.) 310 John A. Jillions

the reality of Christian life in non-Orthodox church communities.”4 Zernov gradually abandoned his Orthodox messianism and adopted a wider ecclesiology in which each Christian church is part of the Body of Christ, each has particular gifts and particular blind-spots, each needs the other and can learn from the other. Indeed, he began to see this as part of God’s plan “to lead us all to a fuller understanding of truth than was accessible to us as divided Christians on our own.”5 This paper will explore Zernov’s thinking on ecclesiology and its implications for the Orthodox Church as a servant of Christian unity. I will begin with a short biographical sketch, then examine some of Zernov’s key ideas (and the reactions of his critics) and conclude with an argument for taking another look at Zernov’s thinking. Before starting let me, however, make one remark about his critics. Much of their negative reaction focused on his proposal for a limited form of intercommunion. This idea was not entirely original with Zernov (it was based on Sergius Bulgakov’s controversial 1933 proposal), nor, in my opinion, was this his main contribution. More importantly, he was asking a basic question that still needs an answer today: What are churches prepared to give up for the sake of serving Christian unity? Or even more basically, how far are we willing to go as churches to imitate Christ in kenosis, in self- emptying “for the life of the world”? If Jesus and the early Church provoked a revolution in Jewish thought by opening up to Gentiles the table of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, might it not be possible for the Orthodox Church to consider opening its ecclesiology – and its own eucharistic table – to other Chris- tians?

Nicholas Zernov (1898–1980)

Nicholas (also Nicolas) Zernov was born in Moscow in 1898 and brought up in a deeply pious Orthodox family. His medical studies at Moscow University were interrupted by the Bolshevik revolution in 1917, and after a period as a White

4 Ware, “Nicholas Zernov,” 17. 5 Ibid. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 311

Army volunteer in the Caucusus he emigrated with his family to Yugoslavia in 1921. He was immersed there in the intellectual ferment of the Russian exiles and enrolled in the Uni- versity of Belgrade Faculty of Theology, where Nicholas Afanasiev, Vasili Zenkovsky, Kyprian Kern, and other Russian refugees of the future Paris School were his classmates. Together they discovered the work of Vladimir Solovyev and Sergius Bulgakov and laid the foundation for the Russian Stu- dent Christian Movement. Graduating in 1925 he went to Paris and worked for five years as one of the first general secretaries of the Russian Student Christian Movement. In 1927 he married Militza Lavrova, who was his constant companion, soul-mate and supporter (1899–1994). On a graduate scholarship from the Anglican Church, he went to Oxford and received his doctorate in 1932. After a brief return to Paris he soon went back to England. He had been one of the founders of the Fellowship of Saint Alban and Saint Sergius (which had its beginnings in the first Anglo-Russian student conference, organized by Zernov in 1927) and now was appointed to serve as its general secretary (1934–47). He went on to serve as the first Spalding Lecturer in Eastern Orthodox Studies at Oxford from 1947 to 1966, was founding warden of Saints Gregory and Macrina House (a residential center to promote east-west Christian contact, 1959–80), was a founder of the Orthodox parish in Oxford (established jointly by the Greek Orthodox diocese of Thyateira and the Russian Orthodox diocese of Sourozh in 1973) and in the last months of his life he set out the vision for the Saint Theosevia Center to be a “group of senior scholars – priests, religious and laity – of different Chris- tian traditions, who would live together in Oxford for varying periods and engage in common prayer and work for Christian unity.”6 Even on his deathbed, the Church and Christian unity were Nicholas Zernov’s constant preoccupation and prayer. Metro- politan Kallistos Ware – Zernov’s successor as Spalding Lec- turer at Oxford – recounts that he went to the hospital in 1980

6 Ibid., 25. 312 John A. Jillions

to anoint Nicolas during what turned out to be his final illness and last days.

When the service had finished, and he and I were left alone for a moment in the room, he made a large sign of the cross, saying firmly and clearly in English: “I believe on One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.” I understood this as an affirmation both of present fact and of a future hope. “Unity,” said Fr Sergius Bulgakov, “is simultaneously something already given and something we must attain to.” Such also was the conviction of Nicolas. Accordingly I took his words “I believe in One Church” to mean that he believed in the visible unity which the Orthodox Church expresses even now; that he believed also in the invisible unity which Christians, although out- wardly divided, possess already; and that he looked with firm hope to the fuller, visible manifestation of that unity in the future. His words summed up for me that quest for unity which was the master theme of his whole life.7

Zernov on Christian Unity

There was an urgency in Zernov’s commitment to Chris- tian unity because he could see the tragic effects of disunity on Christ’s mission in our broken world. The ecumenical movement had started with great enthusiasm, but by the late 1950’s Zernov was afraid that it had run out of steam. Churches had become comfortable with ecumenism. Their divisions and dialogues, though often friendly, had bogged down. The world was increasingly skeptical and church divisions were seen as a sure sign of Christianity’s power politics, pettiness, and paro- chialism. Indeed, large swaths of the world were moving much faster toward human brotherhood, with the churches lagging behind as they kept squabbling over what the world (and many Christians as well) regarded as minutiae. To overcome this,

7 Ibid., 31–32. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 313

Zernov felt it was time for Christians to draw a line under the past, accept the reality of their variety as it has emerged in history – rightly or wrongly – look at each other as brothers and sisters in Christ, and admit their need for each others’ gifts and strengths. They would keep up the dialogues to address their theological and moral concerns but would no longer see these as “church-dividing issues.” Christian churches could thus begin to restore to the Church its true catholicity and become once again

a universal eucharistic fellowship consisting of people who are drawn to the encounter with the living God. Christians of east and west need each other. They are complementary in their achievements and limitations.8

Contemporary Christians are so accustomed to identifying the Church with a single confessional expression that they are reluctant to participate in a richer and more varied sacramental life; yet the Church needs the discipline and universality of Rome, the depth and richness of Orthodox worship, the ecumenical generosity of the Anglicans, the warm fellowship of the Methodists and the sense of personal responsibility and freedom of other Protestants. Christians as a whole no longer understand the true catholicity of the Church.9

No one should mistake any of this for a lack of love for what Zernov had received in the Orthodox Church. In his family memoirs, Zernov ends the long account with a reflection on the ecumenical commitments of his life. It is clear what deep love he has for the Orthodox Church and all that it has given him through years of revolution, war, and exile. Even so, writing near the end of his life, Zernov can no longer accept

8 Nicolas Zernov, “The Russian Orthodox Dispora and its Effect on the West,” The Orthodox Churches and the West, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1976), 322. 9 Nicolas Zernov, Orthodox Encounter: The Christian East and the Ecumenical Movement (London: James Clarke, 1961), 168. 314 John A. Jillions

that the Orthodox tradition alone, even at its best, is sufficient to encompass the full universality of the Christian church. His experience with other Christians showed him that the churches need each other. Taking the pluralistic North American ecclesiastical scene as a case study, he said “no one of the American denominations covers the whole ground, no one of them under its present conditions offers a complete and harmonious version of Christianity; yet each makes some contribution to the religious life of the nation.”10 This new awareness of interdependence is a good thing, he says, and has implications well beyond churches and nations. Interdependence, says Zernov, is especially well suited to the Orthodox, because

a man is seen, in the East, primarily as a member of a community. Those who live in peace and love among themselves become the mirror of the Holy Trinity, the reflection of the heavenly light. Man grows into a person when he realizes his interdependence with other fellow members in the Body of Christ. Christians are those who have responded freely to the call from above; they are separated from the world only in the sense of coming together to form its sacred heart. Through the Church, God brings about the regenera- tion not only of men, but also of beasts and of all nature.11

When it comes to other Christian Churches, Zernov lamented that Orthodoxy had lost its sense of interdependence and reverted to self-sufficiency. Nowhere was this clearer than in Zernov’s experience of Russian Orthodoxy, whose messianic self-sufficiency was its Achilles heel. The Russian church had its saints, “all of whom brought a special gift to the treasure of humanity and were radiant examples of the unique Russian Orthodox way of life.”

But every local church needs to relate to others. The main problems of Christianity in Russia are connected

10 Ibid., 159. 11 Ibid., 55. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 315

with its centuries-long isolation and many of the flaws of Russian church practice can be explained by this lack of relationship with other Orthodox and other Christians. Holiness opened up to Russians the reality and beauty of the transformed body, but it did not teach them how to build their daily life on the foundation of Gospel teaching. … We prayed at length and we fasted strictly, but we had little thought. We wrote icons but we didn’t study theology. We established a day-to-day piety, but we never learned how to defend the independence of the Church. We founded an Orthodox empire, but were unable to establish justice and to protect the dignity and freedom of the person. We acknowledged the brotherhood of all members of the church, but were willing to tolerate the oppression of serfdom. We decorated our homes with icons and built churches, but neglected honesty, counting on the mercy of God toward the repentant sinner. We gloried in our faithfulness to the tradition of the fathers but looked suspiciously at creative thought.12

Zernov admits that he did not see these Orthodox blind-spots at first.

In the days of my youth, when I first found the Church, I was impatient in my zeal for the truth. I was convinced that only we, the Orthodox, and the Rus- sians in particular, had preserved the authentic apostolic tradition and had the fullness of the sacraments. I wanted to save everyone else by bringing them into Orthodoxy. But gradually I became convinced that we don’t have a monopoly on truth. [See footnote 2.]

Zernov’s contact with other Christians pointed to a bigger reality of the Church than he had previously encountered. And it forced him to look at the issue of Christian divisions full in the face.

12 Nicolas and Militsa Zernov, Za Rubezhom, 554. 316 John A. Jillions

My acquaintance with the non-Orthodox gave me the possibility of meeting a stream of leading western Christians – deeply thoughtful people with sacrificial hearts and holiness of life. They placed before me the mystery of the church’s division. I became convinced that it was no accident that the Providence of God allowed the members of the Church to lose their agreement. Right now, throughout the world the ecumenical movement has begun to reunite the broken pieces of the Church. This is a difficult but necessary schooling to lead us all to a fuller understanding of truth than was accessible to us as divided Christians on our own. My pain at our inability to approach one eucharistic chalice with brothers in the faith is sharpened by my awareness of our guilt and responsibility for the loss of this unity. And this is why I dedicated my whole life to work in the field of ecumenism.13

Nicholas Zernov and His Critics

Zernov was not alone in rethinking the Orthodox approach to Christian unity. Sergius Bulgakov, Nicholas Afanasiev, Lev Zander, Anton Kartashev, Paul Evdokimov and others followed a similar line, putting them at odds with what became the mainstream approach to Orthodox ecumenical engagement as reflected especially in the thought of Georges Florovsky.14 The mainstream viewed the cataclysms of the twentieth century and Orthodox dispersion throughout the world after centuries of isolation as a God-given opportunity for Orthodox witness to the Christian truth worked out by the Fathers and confirmed by centuries of Orthodox church life. For the Ortho- dox mainstream, the ultimate goal of the ecumenical movement was nothing short of the return of all other Christian churches to the fullness of the Church that historical Ortho-

13 Ibid., 556. 14 See John A. Jillions, “Three Orthodox Models Christian Unity: Tradi- tionalist, Mainstream, Prophetic,” International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church 9 (2009): 295–311 and “Ecumenism and the Paris School of Orthodox Theology,” Theoforum 39 (2008). Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 317

doxy alone had preserved. But Zernov and company, while accepting this to a point, took a wider view and saw the new circumstances as an opportunity to take on board the experience of other Christians, and to reassess Orthodoxy’s place in global Christianity, its relations with other churches, and the meaning of Christian unity. In short, they proposed that it was time to rethink ecclesiology – which had never been worked out in final form.

[Western Christians] present … a mystery of the divided Church which cannot be solved on precedents taken from the epoch of the seven Ecumenical Coun- cils. It is a new problem requiring a search for a fresh approach and confidence in the power of the Holy Spirit to guide the Church in our time as He guided her in the past.

It is necessary to state from the outset that the attitude to the Christian West has never been discussed by any representative body of the Orthodox Church. Neither Roman Catholics nor Protestants have ever been condemned or excommunicated as such, so a common policy in regard to them has never been adopted.15

15 “The One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church and the Anglicans,” Sobornost 6 (1973): 531. These questions are still in a state of flux within the Orthodox world. As Archbishop Demetrios pointed out at the first gathering of the Orthodox Episcopal Assembly in North America (May 26, 2010), the various Orthodox jurisdictions take starkly different approaches to other Christian churches, and this reflects an ecclesiological confusion. In his opening remarks he said:

We all know of the problem of overlapping jurisdictionalism, but allow me, before closing, to raise other issues of canonical normal- cy and regularization that also need to be addressed: (1) Some jurisdictions receive persons from Roman Catholic and certain Protestant bodies into Holy Orthodoxy by baptism and chrismation, some by chrismation alone, and some merely by confession of faith. (2) Some jurisdictions receive Roman Catholic clergy converting to Holy Orthodoxy merely by vesting, while others ordain. (3) Some jurisdictions recognize all marriages performed outside Holy Orthodoxy as being real marriages (though certainly not sac- 318 John A. Jillions

The idea that the Orthodox might rethink ecclesiology became a contentious issue that divided the Russian theological émigré community in two, as Alexander Schmemann noted.

On the one hand, we find theologians who acknowledge the Ecumenical Movement as, in a way, an onto- logically new phenomenon in Christian history requiring a deep rethinking and re-evaluation of Orthodox ecclesiology as shaped during the “non-ecumenical” era. … This tendency is opposed by those who, without denying the need for ecumenical dialogue and defending the necessity of Orthodox participation in the Ecumenical Movement, reject the very possibility of any ecclesiological revision or adjustment and who view the Ecumenical Movement mainly as a possibility of an Orthodox witness to the West.16

Those who advocated “rethinking” were in the minority and had to withstand ferocious theological attacks from the mainstream, as Zernov discovered. And some, even his friends, while praising his person were critical of his thinking. Schmemann himself, while admiring Zernov’s personal qua- lities, criticized the main flaws of his thinking on Christian unity as “oversimplification and relativism.”17 John Meyen- dorff was more generous and acknowledged that Zernov was a bona fide Russian intellectual, but conceded that it was his “child-like and unashamedly Christian simplicity of heart for which Zernov was loved by so many and will be remembered

ramental) whether performed for an Orthodox or non-Orthodox, while others recognize no marriages performed outside Holy Orthodoxy whether performed for an Orthodox or a non-Orthodox. 16 Alexander Schmemann, “Russian Theology 1920–1972: an Intro- ductory Survey,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 16 (1972):184. 17 Quoted in John Meyendorff, “Nicholas Zernov: Sunset Years: A Russian Pilgrim in the West,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 28 (1984):310. In preparing this paper I spoke with Juliana Schmemann and asked about her impression of Nicholas Zernov. “He was a genuinely radiant person,” she replied. And then in characteristic forthrightness she added, “Now he wasn’t brilliant, but he was a good man.” Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 319

forever.”18 Of his critics, none was more biting than Paul Schneirla, an Anglican convert who taught Old Testament at Saint Vladimir’s Seminary for many years and was an active participant in Anglican-Orthodox dialogues. In a review of Zernov’s main work on Christian unity, Orthodox Encounter: The Christian East and the Ecumenical Movement, published in 1961, Schneirla said:

Russian Orthodoxy has no more charming ambassador to the Christians of the West than Nicholas Zernov. Unfailingly courteous, always smiling, and ever able to provide the simplest solutions to the most complex problems, he is an articulate writer and compelling speaker. It is all the more regrettable that he is an ambassador without credentials.

And it gets worse. “An Orthodox will find something to challenge on every page of this book”; his proposal for reunion “poses a serious threat to the integrity of faith.”

The least that can be said of Zernov’s proposal is that it is diametrically opposed to the centuries-old tradition and teaching of the Church. … An informed Orthodox cannot take Dr. Zernov seriously because he does not speak from the authentic tradition of the Church.19

No doubt reviews like these contributed to Zernov’s eclipse as a major contributor to Orthodox debate on Christian unity. But the aim of this paper, as I said earlier, is to look again at his thinking and ask whether it is relevant and useful today. Zernov was well aware of his critics, as Kallistos Ware noted in his appreciative assessment of Zernov’s life published in Sobornost in 1981, the year after Zernov’s death. Ware sees Zernov’s work more positively, though he too admits Zernov

18 Meyendorff, “Nicholas Zernov,” 310. 19 Willliam Sutfin Schneirla, “Nicholas Zernov,” St. Vladimir’s Semi- nary Quarterly 6 (1962): 213–215. 320 John A. Jillions

was not a systematic thinker.20 He was a close friend of Zernov’s and knew that the criticism stung very deeply, largely because Zernov felt the critics had misunderstood what he was trying to say.

Nicolas bore with humility the attacks to which his writings on church unity were subjected; he was saddened, because he felt that his critics had missed the true point, but he was not personally offended. In reality his approach to Christian reunion was more complex than was generally recognized. As a religious thinker he combined a wide-ranging liberty of specu- lation with profound respect for tradition; his critics saw the first of these things, but usually overlooked the second.21

Ware feels the criticism was exaggerated, and more importantly, misses the fact that Zernov’s main intention was to provoke debate on open questions and to “arouse others from their indifference or complacency, to make them more con- scious of the difficulties.” It was never Zernov’s claim to “say the last word on any topic; he sought merely to kindle a spark in others.”22 Ware also rejects the notion that Zernov held to a “facile ‘branch theory.’ Yes, he was totally convinced that non-Orthodox share in divine grace, and therefore rejected as absurdly inadequate any approach which simply dismissed them as being ‘outside the Church.’” But he understood that Orthodoxy is “the Mother Church of Christendom” and as such its particular gift is its Orthodoxy.

The Eastern Orthodox, in spite of all the vicissitudes of their troubled history, in spite of their tendency to identify their churches and nations, in spite of their personal failings have retained a balanced presentation of Christian doctrine, and have escaped those dangers

20 Kallistos Ware, “Zernov, Nicolas Mihailovich (1898–1980),” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, online edition, 2007. 21 Kallistos Ware, “Nicolas Zernov (1898–1980),” Sobornost, 29. 22 Ibid. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 321

of extremes which affected the development both of the Romans and the Protestants. Their claims to represent the teaching of the undivided Church in the modern world are based on solid foundations.23

But far from being triumphalistic, Orthodox Christians have

special tasks and responsibilities as members of the Mother Church of all Christians; this implies that they ought to treat the separated confessions of the West with love and understanding, and rejoice when these move towards Orthodoxy in teaching and worship. The Orthodox Church is called to appreciate the gifts of the Holy Spirit in other confessions, and to hope and pray for the time when they rediscover their fellowship in Christ with one another and enter into communion with her.24

Moreover, while Zernov did advocate a limited form of intercommunion, this was a much more nuanced view than unrestricted “open communion” (more on this below). Nor did he accept that intercommunion could be a matter of individual decisions without the sanction of the church, and he himself, while proposing intercommunion as a desirable goal, never partook of sacraments other than in the Orthodox Church. Indeed, Zernov made it clear that his own spiritual life was firmly grounded in love and devotion to the Orthodox Church.

The Orthodox Church fed, inspired and supported me in all my undertakings. She helped me to better understand human nature, gave wise assistance in the battle with self-will, self-centeredness and egoism. The Church strengthened me as I daily stood before God in morning and evening prayers, in reading the Holy Scriptures prescribed by her…. But the greatest gift of the Church are her sacraments, and above all the mysteries of confession and communion. … Confes-

23 Zernov, The Reintegration of the Church, 99; quoted in Ibid., 30. 24 Zernov, Orthodox Encounter, 175. 322 John A. Jillions

sion and the Eucharist led me, as it does all her faithful children, into the holy of holies of the Orthodox Church and were the main pillars of my spiritual life.25

Zernov’s Proposal for Limited Intercommunion

Although it may not be his most lasting legacy, Zernov’s proposal deserves some attention, not only because he himself gave it prominence, but also because it is a prime example of an Orthodox attempt to think creatively about a contemporary issue and offer a solution for debate. Zernov was disappointed by the slow progress of the ecumenical movement and wondered whether the dialogue approach was flawed. His proposal for intercommunion came in response to frustration over this lack of progress. There must be another way, he argued, through trust in the transforming power of the Eucharist. Building on the insights of Bulgakov and others, Zernov advocated a prophetic approach that would circumvent the all too human dynamics of theological debate and submit the ecumenical impasse to what he called “divine arbitration.” By this he meant permitting Christians engaged in pursuit of unity to have communion together, asking God to unite them into one mind. The most hopeful place to begin this experiment, he argued, is in relations between Orthodox and Catholics.

By sanctioning this step for those who are willing to undertake it, the Church authorities on both sides would manifest their willingness to present their age- long disputes to God’s judgment and would express their trust in the power of the Divine wisdom to illuminate the hearts and minds of the divided Christians.26

Zernov acknowledges that this would be “a difficult decision to make for both sides, so convinced are they of the truth of their own position and the errors of their opponents.” And

25 Za Rubezhom, 556. 26 Zernov, Orthodox Encounter, 176. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 323

he admits that such a sanction “is bound to raise strong pro- tests in some quarters.” But once the churches have become tired of the stalemate, Zernov hoped that his proposal might “elicit warm support from those Eastern and Western Chris- tians who believe that with God’s help the seemingly irrecon- cilable conflict between the Orthodox and Roman versions of Catholicity can be solved.”27 Zernov hoped that such a movement could eventually embrace other churches as well, releasing them from their excessive focus on the past, opening them up to a new generosity toward each other and revealing new possibilities. “The hope of reintegration rests not so much on the return to some arbi- trarily chosen point in the past, but on a generous forward movement inspired by confidence in the guiding and healing power of the Holy Spirit which makes all things new.”28 The World Council of Churches could also take this as its new point of departure instead of leaving progress in unity to the mercy of theological debate.

There is no more glaring example of the present predicament of the Ecumenical Movement than the place in it of Holy Communion. Instead of being the source of oneness, it is kept in the background as a cause of contention. The leaders of the World Council hope to restore unity by their own efforts; trusting in the common sense and good will of their members whilst the contesting confessions rely upon the learning and elo- quence of their authorized spokesmen.29

Zernov assumed that intercommunion between all churches is still an unrealistic goal, but as a first step he proposed that the Orthodox Church should open its eucharistic table to other Christians who could accept the Orthodox faith.

Christians who profess the Orthodox faith, but are members of the heterodox Churches, could be streng-

27 Ibid., 177. 28 Ibid., 174. 29 Ibid., 125. 324 John A. Jillions

thened in their desire for reconciliation by being admitted as communicants to the Orthodox Eucharist without being separated from their own Churches. Such an action might accelerate the process of the reintegration of the Church, and the same results are likely to be achieved if some Orthodox were authorized by their bishops to participate in the communion services of those separated confessions which seek unity with their Mother Church.30

Zernov’s proposals are tentative and not thoroughly elaborated, and they may have no more chance of success now than in the 1950’s and 60’s (or Bulgakov’s proposals did in the 1930’s).31 But I would not want this to undermine the deeper provocative question his proposal poses: what are we prepared to give up for the sake of serving Christian unity? How far are

30 Ibid., 187. 31 Zernov’s was not the last Orthodox proposal for intercommunion (I am grateful to Paul Meyendorff for this reminder). The well-known and controversial Metropolitan Nikodim Rotov of Leningrad (1929–1978) (who wrote a graduate thesis on Pope John XXIII) took this initiative in a moderate way with the Roman Catholic Church. As Dimitri Pospielovsky writes:

It was on his initiative that the Russian Church, unilaterally in the Orthodox world, issued an encyclical in December 1969 allowing Roman Catholics to receive the Holy Sacraments of confession and communion from Orthodox priests. This reciprocated a similar decision of the Roman Church. His official explanation for this decision was that it applied to cases where Roman Catholics lacked their own clergy and in cases of emergency. But in practice Niko- dim has knowingly given communion to Roman Catholic tourists visiting his cathedral in Leningrad, and even to Roman Catholic clergy and laity present at an Orthodox liturgy which he celebrated on a visit to the Vatican.

Nikodim “came to love the Roman Church and worked hard to bring about intercommunion. … This, not surprisingly, was not understood by many traditional Orthodox Russians and brought him perhaps even more criticism at home than his political stance, for which there were many Orthodox precedents”: D. Pospie- lovsky, John Lawrence, Paul Oestreicher, “Metropolitan Nikodim Remembered,” Religion, State and Society 6 (1978): 227–234. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 325

we willing to go as churches to imitate Christ in kenosis, in self-emptying “for the life of the world”?32

Is New Thinking on Christian Unity Possible Today in the Orthodox Church?

I believe Nicholas Zernov’s writing can be a springboard for new thinking today about ecclesiology and ecumenism. But I immediately add that this “new” thinking is really rooted in Jesus Christ who “emptied himself” of His divine glory. Many have written about the special place of such “kenoticism” in Orthodox, and especially Russian Orthodox, spirituality. Mother Maria Skobtsova called self-emptying the essence of a life based on Christ:

Keep nothing for yourself. Lay aside not only material wealth but spiritual wealth as well, changing everything into Christ’s love, taking it up as your cross. … “Greater love hath no man than he who lays down his soul for his friends” (Jn 15:13). How miserly and greedy it is to understand the word “soul” here as “life.” Christ is speaking here precisely about the soul, about surrendering one’s inner world, about utter un- conditional self-sacrifice as the supreme example of the love that is obligatory for Christians. Here again there is no room for looking after one’s own spiritual treasures. Here everything is given up.33

Why does such kenosis not apply to our attitude towards other churches? Is the integrity of the Holy Trinity diminished by kenosis? Is God sullied by putting on fallen human life? So why, if it is the Body of Christ, can the Orthodox Church not lay aside its glory, righteousness, prerogatives, and power and become a servant for the sake of unity with all who call on the name of Christ? This kind of kenotic ecumenism means stop- ping and caring for a fallen, sinful, messy ecclesiastical world

32 Phil. 2: 5–8. 33 “Types of Religious Life” in Mother Maria Skobtsova: Essential Writings (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis: 2003), 180; originally published in 1937. 326 John A. Jillions

that has been beaten up and robbed and left to die by generations of Orthodox who walk by on the other side of the road, not wanting to be polluted by contact. It means mixing with other Christians, calling them brothers, sisters and friends, inviting other churches in, going to their services, praying with them, working with them, learning with them and from them, seeking them out, sharing their life and allowing them to share ours, and looking for ways that God is at work among them. It means doing this without being judgmental or paternalistic. It means taking the risk of being seen as a despised Samaritan by some fellow Orthodox believers, and yet not judging them either. And finally, it means having a few courageous bishops who are humbly willing to bless this kind of new ecumenical ministry and to defend those who are engaged in it. As John Ruskin wrote:

I believe that the first great test of a truly great man is his humility. I do not mean by humility doubt of his own powers. But really great men have a curious feeling that the greatness is not in them, but through them. And they see something divine in every other man and are endlessly, foolishly, incredibly merciful.34

To be truly great, the Orthodox Church could consciously begin to change its way of thinking about other churches and put on a new humility as the servant of Christian unity. Zernov spent most of his life in Europe, but his highest hopes for Christian unity were based on what he saw in North America. Its pluralism and its ability to integrate hierarchy with commitment to openness, freedom, fairness and democracy made North America a natural ally of sobornost and precisely the right soil for the growth of Christian unity.

The American idea of democracy uniting all races, traditions and creeds in a complex yet harmonious whole has an affinity with the vision of a reintegrated Church. The spontaneity and variety of expression,

34 John Ruskin, Frondes Agrestes: Readings in “Modern Painters” (London: John Wiley and Sons, 1875), 13. Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 327

which is such a cherished feature of their way of life, already foreshadows that unity in freedom which is the very basis of the true ecumenicity of the Church.35

Perhaps he was too romantic on this point and underestimated the conservative dimension in North American life that re- inforces all manner of fundamentalisms.36 But the idea that North America may be a unique laboratory for the working out of Christianity’s future also finds echoes today. Metropolitan Phillip (Saliba) of the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Arch- diocese of North America recently expressed a similar confidence at the Orthodox Episcopal Assembly in New York City:

The Mother Churches must realize that Orthodoxy in America is the best gift to the world. And instead of being crushed by the burdens of the past, let us for- mulate a clear vision for the future. Thomas Jefferson, one of the fathers of our American revolution, once said: “I love the visions of the future rather than the dreams of the past.”37

Can the Orthodox in North America offer a vision of the future for Christianity as a whole, and can they offer themselves kenotically as servants of Christian unity? Looking at Christian history it is clear that Orthodoxy, despite its name, is not antithetical to change. But Orthodoxy does seek balance between faithfulness to the past and openness to the future. In 2008 Metropolitan Kallistos Ware attended the Anglican Lambeth Conference as an observer and was interviewed about the controversial topics then being addressed. He remarked that when facing decisions on any new issue the Church must be attentive to keeping a balance between “catholic consensus”

35 Zernov, Orthodox Encounter, 168. 36 On this see Michael Plekon, “Relativism and Fundamentalism: an Eastern Church Perspective from the ‘Paris School’ and Living Tradition,” in Peter L. Berger, ed., Between Relativism and Fundamentalism: Religious Resources for a Middle Position (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010), 180– 209. 37 Metropolitan Philip, May 26 address to Episcopal Assembly: http:// www.antiochian.org/node/23042. 328 John A. Jillions

and “prophetic action.” If the Orthodox have stressed consensus in the past, he said, they must nevertheless remain open to the possibility of Spirit-inspired change coming from the most unexpected places.

I’ve spoken about the need for catholic consensus on issues like the ordination of women or the blessing of homosexual relations. These are departures from Church order and from accepted moral teaching of major importance, and therefore there ought to be some consensus not just within the Anglican Communion but with the other Churches, especially those that preserve the historic apostolic faith and order, the Roman Catholics and the Orthodox. That is one side of the matter, the need for consensus.

But then we might also say, should there not also be the possibility for a prophetic action? Will you ever have change unless some people are willing to stand up and say, this is what we ought to be doing? And even if their testimony is highly controversial, who will nonetheless stand by their position. It could be argued that perhaps the Anglican Communion was guided by the Holy Spirit to lead other Christians into new paths. Now I can see that as a valid argument and I want to balance that against the point that we need to act with catholic consensus.

How can we do both these things together – preserve catholic consensus, and yet allow grace for freedom in the Holy Spirit? Christ did not tell us that nothing should ever be done for the first time. The whole witness of the early Church points in a different direction. So how do you balance these two things – the need for consensus with the need for freedom in the Spirit, the need for loyalty to holy tradition, with the need to be open to new initiatives?38

38 George Westhaver, “LAMBETH: Interview with the Most Rev. Kal- listos Ware, Archbishop of Gt. Britain for the Ecumenical Patriarchate” [sic]: Nicholas Zernov’s Rethinking of Christian Unity 329

“Christ did not tell us that nothing should ever be done for the first time.” Perhaps Zernov’s thinking on Christian unity will prove to be as out of step with the mainstream Orthodox consensus today as it was in the twentieth century. But Ortho- dox bishops and ecumenical leaders of today, and all who are charged with discerning “what the Spirit is saying to the Churches” might well consider the possibility that he still has something prophetic to tell us.

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Резюме

Стаття пропонує переосмислення підходу Николая Зернова щодо православ’я та екуменізму тридцять років після його смерти. Н. Зернов, а також Сергій Булгаков, Николай Афанас’єв, Лев Зандер, Антон Карташов та Павло Євдокімов обстоювали дещо відмінний від право- славного “мейнстріму” Георгія Флоровського підхід до екуменізму. Александр Шмеман, Йоан Меєндорф та Павло Шнерла відкидали ідеї Зернова як нездійсненно ідеаліс- тичні та доктринально підозрілі, натомість інші, включно з Калістом Уером дають більш позитивну оцінку пропозиції Зернова щодо обмеженого сопричастя між католиками та православними. У висновку, цитуючи Марію Скобцову, автор твердить, що сопричастя пропоноване Зерновим буде можливим, лише в тому випадку, коли православні християни візьмуть на себе ініціятиву в переживанні ради- кального кенозису і прагнутимуть стати першими слугами єдности.

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http://www.prayerbookatlambeth.org/interviews/2008/7/28/an-interview- with-the-most-revd-kallistos-ware-archbishop-of.html.

Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4, pp. 331–340

Identity, Fracture and Exodus: The Disappearing Christians of the Holy Land1

Stephen W. Need

Introduction

The Christians of the Holy Land are gradually disappearing and now comprise less than 1.5% of the population. While many people may now be aware that Christians are disappearing,2 few know the real reasons for this and most have little or no idea who such Christians are in the first place. Visitors to contemporary Israel, the West Bank, and Gaza Strip are often surprised to hear that there are indigenous Christians in the Holy Land, assuming that any local Christians are expatriates. This article is a report on who they are and why they are leaving. It views them in their contemporary context in Israel and the Palestinian Territories and outlines the thirteen historic churches to which they belong. It underlines major features of their identity and history and notes the political, social and economic reasons for their exodus. Christianity, like Judaism and Islam, has played a significant role in the history of the region and the population today includes Christians as well as Jews and Muslims. It is essential to know at the outset, therefore, that not all the citizens of the

1 This article is a revised version of a lecture given at the University of Otago, New Zealand in July 2009. I am grateful to the Rev. Dr. Naim Ateek and Dr. Bernard Sabella for their helpful comments on previous drafts. 2 See Don Belt “The Forgotten Faithful” in National Geographic (June 2009): 78–97; and William Dalrymple From the Holy Mountain. A Journey in the Shadow of Byzantium (London: HarperCollins, 1997). 332 Stephen W. Need

modern state of Israel are Jewish: some are Palestinian Arabs, of whom a few are Christian. In similar vein, not all Palesti- nians in the West Bank and Gaza Strip are Muslim. Again, some are Christian. It is with the indigenous Palestinian Arab Christians in Israel, the West Bank and Gaza Strip that I am concerned in this article: who are they and why are they leaving? To begin with, a sense of numbers is important.3 First, there are about 7.5 million people in modern Israel including approximately 5.6 million Israeli Jews, 1.3 million Palesti- nians, and 320,000 immigrants of mixed backgrounds. Of the Palestinians or “Israeli Arabs” as they are sometimes called, about 110,000 are Christian. There is also a small number of Israeli Jewish Christians.4 In the West Bank there are about 2.4 million Palestinians of whom about 50,000 are Christian; and in the Gaza Strip about 1.4 million Palestinians of whom about 2,500 are Christian. There are also nearly 500,000 Jewish set- tlers in the West Bank and East Jerusalem. All this means that in the area known today as the Holy Land there are about 11.5 million people. A positive estimate puts the Christians at about 160,000 or nearly 1.5% of the overall population. In relation to Jews and Muslims they are in a double minority and their numbers are dwindling. A century ago, the Christians numbered about 10% of the population. In 1947, the year before the establishment of the state of Israel, they numbered about 7%. So what is happening?

3 The statistics are notoriously difficult to determine and the figures here are approximate. I am indebted to Rania Al Qass Collings et al., eds., Palestinian Christians. Facts, Figures and Trends 2008 (Bethlehem: Diyar, 2008); Bernard Sabella “Palestinian Christians. Historical Demographic Developments, Current Politics and Attitudes Towards Church, Society and Human Rights” in The Sabeel Survey on Palestinian Christians in The West Bank and Israel (Jerusalem: Sabeel, 2006); and the Israel Central Bureau of Statistics. 4 These mostly fall within the category of “Messianic Jews.” The number is difficult to establish but there are only a few who are Israeli citizens. For an introduction to the wider world of Messianic Judaism see Dan Cohn- Sherbok, ed., Voices of Messianic Judaism. Confronting Critical Issues. Facing a Maturing Movement (Baltimore, MD: Messianic Jewish Publishers, 2001). The Disappearing Christians of the Holy Land 333

In considering the situation of the indigenous Christians of the Holy Land who are leaving, I note three broad factors: first, their historical identity; second, the fracturing of Chris- tian communities; and third, the practical reasons for their exodus. I will emphasize that although the roots of the Chris- tian exodus go back long before the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948, the conflict in the area since that time has seriously accelerated emigration.

Identity

The Christians of the Holy Land belong to thirteen historic churches in three distinct groups. First, Orthodox: (1) Greek Orthodox; (2) Armenian Orthodox; (3) Coptic Orthodox; (4) Ethiopian Orthodox; and (5) Syrian Orthodox. Second, Catho- lic: (6) Roman (Latin) Catholic; (7) Franciscan (Custody of the Holy Land); (8) Armenian Catholic; (9) Syrian Catholic; (10) Melkite; and (11) Maronite. Third, Protestant: (12) Anglican; and (13) Lutheran.5

Orthodox

The Orthodox group consists, first of all, of the Greeks. They are the oldest Church in the Holy Land and were established in the fourth century when Constantine the Great built churches in Jerusalem and Bethlehem. The other four members of the Orthodox group are the “Oriental Orthodox.” They also trace their origins in the area to the fourth century when they arrived as pilgrims to the holy places, establishing monasteries and other institutions. As we shall see in the next section, these four groups are separated from the Greek Orthodox Church in matters of doctrine. Today the Orthodox comprise approximately 49% of the Christians in the Holy Land.

5 On these groups and others see Ken Parry, ed., The Blackwell Compa- nion to Eastern Christianity (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007) and Id., The Black- well Dictionary of Eastern Christianity (Oxford: Blackwell, 1999); Betty Jane Bailey and J. Martin Bailey Who Are the Christians in the Middle East? (Grand Rapids MI: Eerdmans, 2003). 334 Stephen W. Need

Catholics

The second group are the Catholics, beginning with the Latins, whose presence in the Holy Land dates to the time of the Crusades in the eleventh century when they established a patriarchate in Jerusalem. When the Latin Kingdom of Jeru- salem came to an end in the twelfth century the patriarchate ceased but was re-established in Jerusalem in 1847. The “Cus- tody of the Holy Land” belongs to the Franciscans and although they are technically part of the Catholic Church they are “independent.” Francis of Assisi himself visited the Holy Land in 1219 but it was Pope Clement IV who established the Franciscan responsibility for the holy places in 1342 and this continues today. The Catholic group also includes the Eastern Catholics, who trace their origins to members of the Oriental Orthodox groups that at some point in their histories established union with Rome. They have often been known as the “uniate” churches although this title is now rarely used except polemically or pejoratively. The question of possible union between Rome and the Oriental Orthodox Churches was raised at the Council of Ferrara / Florence in 1438–49 but nothing came of that council. Only much later did some groups individually seek communion with Rome. In the Middle East, some of the Greek Orthodox entered into communion with the Roman Church in 1724 forming the Greek Catholic or Melkite Church. The ancient name Melchite comes from the Syriac Malchi meaning “king.” Those so designated were the ancient followers of the emperor who accepted Chalcedonian orthodoxy. The Melkites are now the largest Church in the Holy Land. Other Eastern Catholics include the Armenian Catholic Church, established in 1742, and the Syrian Catholic Church, established in 1782. The Maronite Church also belongs to the Catholic group but has a markedly different history. Maronite origins are shrouded in mystery and there are allegations of Monothelite associations but the Maronites have always claimed good relations with Rome and spread widely, especially in Lebanon where they are still the majority Christian The Disappearing Christians of the Holy Land 335

group. Today, in sum, the Catholics of all kinds comprise about 49% of the Christians in the Holy Land.

Protestants

The third group is the Protestant or Reformed, namely the Anglicans and the Lutherans. They were established in the Holy Land in the nineteenth century when Queen Victoria of England and Kaiser Wilhelm IV of Prussia agreed to establish a joint Protestant presence in the Holy Land. An Anglican- Lutheran bishopric was created in Jerusalem in 1841 but the project collapsed towards the end of the nineteenth century and the two went their separate ways. Today, they comprise about 2% of the Christians in the Holy Land. In addition to the thirteen main groups there are handfuls of others including, within the Orthodox group, Russians and Romanians, and – within the Protestant group – Baptists, Pres- byterians, Seventh Day Adventists, Church of Scotland, Men- nonites and Quaker groups). The only group currently growing is the Messianic Jews but these are mostly not attached to any of the historic churches.6 The local Palestinian Christians of the Holy Land, therefore, usually belong to one of the thirteen churches mentioned. Their hierarchies all have distinctive national backgrounds and histories, but the majority of the local faithful are indigenous Palestinian Arabs who trace their Christian origins back to the beginning of Christianity. Today, the Christians are to be found mostly inside Israel in Nazareth, Haifa, and Tel Aviv/Jaffa. Those in the West Bank are mostly in East Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Ramallah, and Nablus. All thirteen churches have played distinctive roles down the centuries in their cultural, educational, social and ecclesiastical contributions to Christian life in the Holy Land. Their relations with each other have, however, not always been good, and their changing political contexts have challenged and compromised their strength and cohesion, as we shall now indicate.

6 The main exception is the Hebrew-speaking Christians attached to the Latin Church. 336 Stephen W. Need

Fracture

Throughout their many centuries in the Holy Land the various Christian communities have suffered fractures, divisions and breaks that can still be felt today. Divisions resulting from major theological controversies in the wider Christian world in the fifth,7 eleventh,8 and sixteenth centuries still run deep.9 Far more serious, however, have been the political reconfigurations that have affected Christians in the Holy Land over the centuries.10 Following the Muslim invasions and conquests of the seventh to twelfth centuries, the circumstances in which Christians found themselves changed dramatically. In the twelfth century the country was taken by European Crusa- ders and the local Christians found themselves under a western Catholic power. When Saladin defeated the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1187, the Christians again found themselves under Muslim rule. In the nineteenth century, two further invasions from the west had far-reaching effects: the rise of modern Zionism, and colonialism. When Jews from Europe poured into the Holy Land inspired by the Zionist vision of a homeland for the Jews in Palestine, local Palestinian Christians were uprooted and displaced. When western Christian powers sent their missionaries to the area they often converted locals to western forms of Christianity. On each occasion through change of context, religion, and ruler, the indigenous Chris- tians suffered serious degrees of fracture, dispossession, and displacement, weakening their presence and identity, and resulting in serious dispersal.

7 On the Christological divisions of Chalcedon and wider conciliar history, see Stephen W. Need, Truly Divine and Truly Human. The Story of Christ and the Seven Ecumenical Councils (London: SPCK, 2008). 8 See Henry Chadwick East and West. The Making of a Rift in the Church. From Apostolic Times until the Council of Florence (Oxford: OUP, 2003). 9 See Patrick Collinson, The Reformation: A History (New York: Ran- dom House, 2006). 10 For a detailed account of the fate of Palestinian Christians during the different periods of their history see Donald E. Wagner, Dying in the Land of Promise: Palestine and Palestinian Christianity from Pentecost to 2000 (London: Melisende, 2001). The Disappearing Christians of the Holy Land 337

Arguably the most devastating events to affect the Chris- tians of the Holy Land were those of the twentieth century and since, in particular the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948, the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip in 1967, and the two Palestinian intifadas11against Israeli occupation beginning in 1987 and 2000.12 All these wreaked havoc in the Palestinian communities and accelerated Christian emigration considerably. In May 1948 when the new Israeli state was established, about 700,000 Palestinian refugees left for Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan. Among them were some 60,000 Christians. In the Six Day War of June 1967, over 200,000 Palestinians, including some 20,000 Christians, became refugees, mainly in Jordan. During the two intifadas thousands of Palestinian Christians left the country for social and economic reasons arising from the continuing conflict. These cata- strophic events did more than weaken the presence of the local Christians: they established a new wave of emigration that has continued across six decades.

Exodus

Two dimensions of the Palestinian Christian exodus from the Holy Land must now be emphasised.13 First, when Western Christians established their presence in the Holy Land, they converted local Christians to their own denominations. In establishing numerous institutions such as churches, schools, and hospitals they created opportunities for travel and study abroad as well as at home. In doing this, they contributed over the years to the creation of a Christian middle class in Pales- tinian society. Although the situation has been changing in

11 The Arabic word intifada means a “shaking off” and is used of the Palestinian attempts to “shake off” Israeli occupation through uprisings. 12 For introductions to all this see Gregory Harms with Todd M. Ferry The Palestine-Israel Conflict: A Basic Introduction (London: Pluto Press, 2005); and Dan Cohn Sherbok and Dawoud El-Alami, The Palestine-Israel Conflict: A Beginner’s Guide, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Oneworld, 2009). 13 For a fuller discussion see Bernard Sabella “Socio-economic Charac- teristics and Challenges to Palestinian Christians in the Holy Land” in An- thony O’Mahony, ed., Palestinian Christians: Religion, Politics and Society in the Holy Land (London: Melisende, 1999). 338 Stephen W. Need

recent years, for a long time Christians were more likely to be employed in education, health, and tourism, and to occupy academic, technical, and managerial roles than to be employed in manual labour. They were, therefore, generally wealthier than their Muslim contemporaries. Higher education gave rise to the hope for a wider range of employment possibilities and ultimately a better standard of living. But as the political circumstances deteriorated such aspirations were dashed. Many Palestinian Christians inevitably looked beyond the boundaries of their own country for better prospects. Second, the events of 1948 and 1967 caused seismic changes in Palestinian society. The establishment of the modern Israeli state, the military occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, the expansion of settlements, the creation of dozens of check points, the implementation of house demolition policies and more recently the building of 750km of a separation barrier have all contributed to the destruction of Palestinian community life. Restriction of movement has resulted in the deterioration of the economy and a rise in unemployment. Furthermore, because of the political instability in the area Christian-Muslim relations within the Palestinian communities have sometimes been tense.14 For Palestinian Christians looking for employment and a safer environment in which to bring up their children, it has long made more sense to leave the country than to stay. An important statistical distinction must be made at this point between absolute numbers and percentages. A century ago there were about 70,000 Christians in the Holy Land; in 1945 there were about 145,000; and today there are about 160,000. Although this gives the impression of growth, the percentage of Christians has diminished. There are two sides to this: first, the increase of numbers in surrounding communities. From the middle of the nineteenth century and especially since 1948, millions of Jews moved to the area. In the last thirty years or so several hundred thousand Ethiopian and a million Russian Jews arrived. Hundreds still immigrate to

14 For the view that such tensions have contributed to Christian emigration see Raphael Israeli Green Crescent Over Nazareth. The Displacement of Christians by Muslims in the Holy Land (London: Frank Cass, 2002). The Disappearing Christians of the Holy Land 339

Israel every year. A higher birth-rate among Palestinian Mus- lims has also affected the percentage of Christians which has inevitably decreased overall even when the actual number has risen. Second, there has been a halting growth rate in the Chris- tian communities due to emigration and a deteriorating birth rate. If the Christians of the Holy Land were still 10% of the overall population today as they were a century ago, there would now be over a million Christians in the country but as it is there are only around 160,000. The overall percentage figure of less than 1.5%, therefore, arises from the increased numbers of Jews and Muslims linked with the diminishing growth rate and emigration of the Christians themselves. As a result of the many twists and turns in the history of the region, of radical divisions within and without, and of heightened political conflict, large numbers of Palestinian Christians have emigrated, when opportunity has arisen, creating a “Palestinian diaspora” in western countries. Of the 400,000 Palestinian Christians in the world today about 240,000 are now living in the USA, South America, Europe, Australia, and elsewhere. They have left their homeland for a better life abroad. Statistics now indicate that the growth rate in the Christian population has dwindled to an all-time low.

Conclusion

What might the future hold for these Christians and how do they themselves see the situation? There are basically two approaches pointing in the same direction.15 On the one hand, pessimists predict the total disappearance of Christians from the Holy Land within the next few decades. If the occupation and political conflict continue, they argue, more and more Christians will leave the country. Church buildings will probably become museums – empty shells from the past constituting a religious Disneyland for western Christian pilgrims. Optimists, on the other hand, have more hope for the

15 For a fuller discussion see Naim Ateek “The Future of Palestinian Christianity” in The Forgotten Faithful: a Window into the Life and Witness of Christians in the Holy Land (Jerusalem: Sabeel, 2007), 136–50. 340 Stephen W. Need

long-term survival of the Christian communities. They admit their need to work harder to heal their own centuries-long divisions and to ease political tensions across three faiths and two peoples. And they admit their need to do more in their own communities to strengthen their presence and witness. Like the pessimists, however, they realise that things are only likely to change for the better when the Israeli-Palestinian territorial question is resolved and Palestinians inside Israel are treated like other Israeli citizens. Only when the rights of Palestinians generally have improved will Palestinian Christian prospects in particular look any brighter. Given a favourable climate, the Christian exodus could slow down and even grind to a halt. Palestinian Christians from the diaspora might even return to the Holy Land. But none of this will occur without the cooperation of all the political factions concerned and it is likely to take a very long time – if it happens at all. In the long run, if the indigenous Christians of the Holy Land do survive, it will most probably be in very small numbers.

   

Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies Vol. 51 (2010) Nos. 3–4, pp. 341–354

A Proposal for the Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church Culminating in Baptism-Chrismation During a Parish Sunday Liturgy

Peter Galadza1

I. Immediate Stimulus for the Proposal

This proposal grew out of the desire of the members of the Conventus Hierarcharum Orientalium Catholicorum Europae (CHOCE), expressed during their annual meeting in Velehrad (Czech Republic) 25–27 June 2007, to deepen their reflection on the pastoral renewal of the mysteries of initiation in the light of patristic practice and theology. More specifically the hierarchs requested that a draft of an adapted rite of Christian initiation with scholarly commentary be submitted for their consideration. The proposal was to include a) the possibility of serving the mysteries of initiation in the context of the Divine Liturgy; b) reference to the practice of the Eastern Churches not in communion with Rome; c) references to the already existing practice of Eastern Catholic Churches; and d) the prescriptions of canon law and the guidelines of the Roman Apostolic See. Several Eastern Catholic liturgists, convoked by Marcel Mojzeš upon the request of the bishops of CHOCE, met during

1 I presented this text at the request of the Conventus Hierarcharum Orientalium Catholicorum Europae (CHOCE) at its meeting in Uzhhorod, Ukraine on 12 May 2009. Apparently at least one of the Greco-Catholic Churches of Eastern Europe has decided to begin implementing the proposal. 342 Peter Galadza

the bi-annual congress of the Societas Orientalium Liturgiarum in Rome in September 2008 and discussed the above-mentioned request of the bishops as well as different approaches to the question.

II. Foundations in Authoritative Statements of the Catholic Church

Consider the following sections of Sacrosanctum Conci- lium of the Second Vatican Council and the Istruzione per l’applicazione delle prescrizioni liturgiche del Codice dei Canoni delle Chiese Orientali of the Congregation for the Eastern Churches (1996):

Sacrosanctum Concilium:

The catechumenate for adults, comprising several distinct steps, is to be restored and to be taken into use at the discretion of the local ordinary. By this means the time of the catechumenate, which is intended as a period of suitable instruction, may be sanctified by sacred rites to be celebrated at successive intervals of time (no. 64; emphasis mine).

The roles of parents and godparents, and also their du- ties, should be brought out more clearly in the rite itself (no. 67; emphasis mine).

Istruzione per l’applicazione delle prescrizioni liturgiche del Codice dei Canoni delle Chiese Orientali:

According to the doctrine and practice of the ancient Church, inspired by the New Testament, the faithful who received the eschatological gift of the Spirit of the Risen accepted that the same Spirit operate in his or her person the assimilation to Christ the Lord. The baptismal rebirth as children of God, inheritors of the Kingdom, justified, redeemed and sanctified, entailed the full entrance into the people of God. The ultimate Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church 343

“sign” of this event was the admission to the banquet of the Kingdom (no. 42 § 2; emphasis mine).

All Christian rituals, Eastern as well as Western, pre- scribe that prior to administering it [i.e. baptism], a preparation is required in which both the journey of the candidate toward the Lord and – immediately before the Baptism – his or her adhesion to Christ and corresponding renunciation of Satan and forces of evil are expressed (no. 44 § 1; emphasis mine).

To guarantee all this, can. 686 § 2 of the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches underscores the requirement of a con- gruent preparation when it states: “The pastor is to see that the parents of the infant to be baptized and those who are given the function of sponsor, be instructed as to the meaning of this sacrament and the obligations connected with it and that they are prepared for an appropriate celebration of the sacrament” (no. 44 § 4; emphasis mine). In a section entitled “To Distinguish the Phases of the Rite of Baptism” we read:

Christian Initiation is a process of conversion, punc- tuated by some ritual moments which realize the wise pedagogy of salvation (no. 45).

Today, in the majority of the cases, the baptismal rite is celebrated together with the rites which prepare for it. It is precisely the nature of the progression of the itine- rary of conversion which makes it beneficial to restore the ancient distinction in time between the preparatory part and that of the true and proper baptismal celebration. Re-establishing this separation will be even more meaningful when it concerns the Baptism of adults (emphasis mine).

The exhortations of Pope John Paul II and the present pontiff to a new evangelization also provide inspiration for the proposal. Baptism provides a unique opportunity for pastors of 344 Peter Galadza

souls to communicate the good news of salvation to those who might otherwise never have contact with the Church. Note that the outline of the order of texts of the rites of baptism-chrismation is that found in the Recensio ruthena edition of the Malyi Trebnyk, published by the Oriental Con- gregation in 1946 (and translated into Ukrainian in 1974). Naturally, Byzantine-rite churches of recensions other than the Ruthenian will presumably want to add certain texts not found in the Recensio ruthena.

III. Pastoral Goal of the Proposal

It cannot be stressed enough that the ultimate goal of the following proposal is not “liturgical” (at least in the way that the term is sometimes understood) but pastoral in the most radical sense of the term – to enable the Church’s shepherds to have close, dynamic contact with members of their flock for the purpose of “gathering the family of God together as a brotherhood enlivened by one spirit [and] through Christ lead them in the Holy Spirit to God the Father. … [For] ceremonies however beautiful … will be of little value if they are not directed toward the education of persons to Christian maturity” (Presbytorum Ordinis, no.6; emphasis mine). Anyone with pastoral experience and zeal knows that all opportunities for edifying contact with parishioners should be maximized. At the same time, we know that it is easiest to do so when these opportunities are ritualized. (Think of how many families would never be visited if not for the Theophany blessing of homes.) If the Church is to demand of the laity more intense catechetical instruction and greater contact with the parish, it is easiest to make the demand when the laity approach the clergy with a request for some service. (The example of marriage preparation is apropos.) Consequently, a key dimension of the following proposal is heightened contact with the faithful – the contact by a priest but also contact by the parish as a whole.2 Without such contact the very term ekkle-

2 In a very moving passage from a pastoral letter to his clergy, dated 1901, we read the following exhortation of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky: “Let the priest visit the smoke-filled huts where the poor live; let him see the Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church 345

sia loses meaning. Regular church goers will see who is becoming a new member of the Church, and with proper training will learn how to welcome these members into the community. This will lead to a diminution of anonymity in our parishes.

IV. The Proposal

The historical foundation for the following proposal is outlined, inter alia, in the publications of the late Jesuit Miguel Arranz, professor of liturgy at the Pontifical Oriental Institute.3 On the basis of such historical research as well as the exhortations of the Roman Apostolic See, an ideal rite would follow the pattern outlined below:

1. Visitation of the Family in Their Home, the First Cate- chesis, and Prayer for the Eighth Day 2. Second Catechesis and Rites for the Making of a Cate- chumen, Exorcism, Renunciation/Adhesion and Reci- tation of the Creed 3. Actual Baptism-Chrismation during a parish Divine Liturgy beginning from “Blessed be the Kingdom” 4. A Week after the Baptism: the Churching and the Pre- sentation of the Baptismal Certificate.

hard beds on which they sleep and breathe the polluted air. Let him touch the black, calloused hands hardened by work of these people who are his brothers. Let him eat a piece of the hard bread that constitutes their sustenance. Let him ask them how they make ends meet, how they survive; what kind of work they do and how they entertain themselves. Let him visit on a cold winter day when there is no kindle for the stove; when the family is sick – without a doctor, or medicines or even warm food. Let him see the father with tears in his eyes because he can’t even afford bread for his children” (On the Obligations and Dignity of Priests). 3 Miguel Arranz, “Évolution des rites d’incorporation et de réadmission dans l’Église selon l’Euchologe byzantin,” in Gestes et paroles dans les di- verses familles liturgiques; conférences Saint-Serge – XXIVe Semaine d’étu- des liturgiques (Roma: Centro Liturgico Vincenziano, 1978), 31-75; Idem., “Les Sacrements de l’ancien Euchologe constantinopolitain (3): II-me partie – Admission dans l’Église des enfants des familles chrétiennes (premier catéchumenat),” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 49 (1983): 284-302; Id., “Les Sacrements de l’ancien Euchologe constantinopolitain (4): III-me partie - Préparation au Baptême,” Orientalia Christiana Periodica (1984): 43-64. 346 Peter Galadza

Consider each of these four phases in more detail.

1. Visitation by the Priest of the Family in Their Home, the First Catechesis and Recitation of the Prayer for the Eighth Day

The need and benefit of visiting parishioners in their homes is obvious. Parishioners, however, are not always willing to invite a priest to their homes. However, if the parish policy were to be that those desiring to have their child baptized must undergo an initial catechesis in their home, at which time the priest also prays over the child, it would be far easier to make such visits a regular part of parish life. Note that, historically, the present-day “Prayer for the Naming of the Child on the Eighth Day” was not a prayer for naming the child, but rather a prayer marking the beginning of the journey to the catechumenate. (The text makes this clear.) Consequent- ly, there is no need to insist that the prayer be recited on the eighth day per se. This is important as the parents will sometimes not approach the priest for baptism until the child is several weeks or even months old. Thus, regardless of when the parents approach the priest, he should insist that he will first visit the family in their home, conduct a short catechesis with them and the godparents, and conclude with “The Prayer for the Eighth Day.”

2. Second Catechesis and Rites for the Making of a Catechu- men, Exorcism, Renunciation/Adhesion and Recitation of the Creed

In keeping with patristic and middle-Byzantine practice, all of the following prayers and rites would take place as a separate unit at some point prior to “Blessed be the King- dom…” so that the baptism-chrismation properly speaking can be celebrated separately in the context of the Divine Liturgy without inordinately prolonging the Sunday Divine Liturgy. This is important, as several communities which have joined all of the rites/prayers of initiation to the Sunday Divine Litur- Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church 347

gy have noted that the additional length of the service makes it less feasible on Sundays.

Outline of Rite:

Parents, godparents, child, etc. in narthex Royal doors remain closed Priest, vested only in epitrachelion, descends from sanctuary via deacon’s door

Prayer over the catechumen: “In Your name…”

Exorcism(s) (in the case of children, it makes greater sense to recite only one of the two exorcisms, especially as the Trebnyk itself provides for such an option)

Renunciation of Satan, and Adhesion to Christ

The Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed

Triple Question and Bowing by the Catechumen

The Prayer asking the Lord to “call His servant to holy enlightenment” forms the Dismissal

3. Actual Baptism-Chrismation during a (Sunday) Parish Divine Liturgy Beginning from “Blessed be the Kingdom”

Outline of Rite:

Parents, godparents, child etc at tetrapod Priest and deacon, fully vested, open royal doors, pro- ceed to tetrapod Incensation

“Blessed be the Kingdom…” and Great Litany

Prayer of Blessing of the Water, Peace, and Prayer of Blessing of the Oil 348 Peter Galadza

Anointing of Body with Oil of Gladness Actual Baptism

Vesting in Robe of Light accompanied by Chanting of “Grant me a robe of light…”

Bestowal of Candle

Prayer before Chrismation

Actual Chrismation

Triple Chanting of “All who have been baptized into Christ, have put on Christ. Alleluia” during triple procession around the font/tetrapod.4 The order of the procession would be: (Deacon, when present, leading) Priest with extended hand cross and epitrachelion placed on child

Godparents with child (one of the godparents carries the candle)

Entrance of clergy into the sanctuary for the remainder of the Liturgy of the Word as well as the Liturgy of the Eucharist

Prokeimenon with verse, Epistle, Alleluia with verses

Gospel (proclaimed from ambo)

Homily (from ambo)

4 This procession is a remnant of the ancient procession of the newly baptized into the church from the baptistery. Even in its present minimal form – practiced throughout the centuries and today by all of the Orthodox Churches – this procession is a way of expressing the celebrational dimension of these Mysteries. Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church 349

Augmented Litany from the Rite of Baptism

Cherubic Hymn5 and the rest of the Divine Liturgy (during which it is ideal for the creed to be recited by the parents/godparents)

Communion: the newly baptized are communicated first6

Dismissal with Singing of “God Grant You Many Years!” (“Mnohaya lita”)

4. A Week after the Baptism: the Churching and the Presen- tation of the Baptismal Certificate

The history of the rites known today as the churching is too complex to be treated here. It is, however, certainly amenable to the pastoral adaptation proposed below. The proposal intends to highlight the fact that initiation into the Church presumes a “follow-up,” as it were. The practice of post-mys- tagogical catechesis is a standard component of patristic practice. On the following Sunday (after the baptism), the churching would be appropriate (the rites, that is, “for the fortieth day” – “when the child begins to go to church”). It would be easy to motivate the parents to “follow through” in this way by making it policy that they receive the child’s baptismal certificate at this time – and not earlier. Incidentally, parishes

5 Some Eastern Catholics have the godparents with child and the candle walk in the Great Entrance procession – from the deacon’s door to the area in front of the solea. 6 Note that the re-introduction of infant communion does note require the abolition of celebrations for the so-called “First Communion” at the age of seven or eight. These celebrations become “The First Confession and Communion,” and mark the stage when children can approach the chalice without their parents. Incidentally, the practice of having three- or four-year- old children coming to communion unaccompanied by a parent or other adult is an abuse. Of course, this does not mean that the accompanying adult must receive communion, but certainly the child requires supervision.

350 Peter Galadza

with the wherewithal to do so could provide for a modest “reception” on church premises during which parishioners could get to know the family of the baptizand better.

Outline of Rite:

Parents/godparents/child at tetrapod

After ambo prayer

The priest at the tetrapod (there is no need to “un-do” the initiation, as it were, by returning to the narthex) takes the child(ren) and says:

The servant(s) of God NN is (are) churched in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. He/she/they will enter into Your house and bow towards Your holy temple.

Moving onto the ambo, the priest says:

“The servant(s) of God NN is (are) churched in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. In the midst of the church he/she/ they will praise you.”

Passing through the royal doors, the priest says:

“The servant(s) of God NN is (are) churched in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Now you will dismiss Your servant, O Lord, according to Your word in peace…”

Having processed around the altar, he returns the child to his/her parents.

Incidentally, until the fifteenth century, the practice was to bring newly baptized girls into the sanctuary as well as boys, the only difference being that the priest did not have the girl Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church 351

reverence the altar from the front, but only from the sides. In Byzantium itself, the ban on women entering the sanctuary is a late practice. One will recall that in Byzantium deaconesses were ordained at the altar, that is, in the sanctuary. In the present context, this is an important point: when several children are churched simultaneously it is certainly odd to bring only some of them, that is, only the boys, into the sanctuary.

V. The Practice of Churches not in Communion with Rome

Several Orthodox communities have begun celebrating the Mysteries of initiation in the context of the Divine Liturgy. The first to do so was the Orthodox Church of Finland. This practice influenced several priests in Russia, which eventually motivated the Moscow Patriarchate to publish a booklet entitled Kreshchalnaia Liturgia (followed by a second edition). This rite, however, is not widespread. Note also that even before any of the Orthodox Churches began celebrating baptisms in the context of the Divine Liturgy, Alexander Schmemann made a proposal for doing so. Generally, however, all of these Orthodox proposals are problematic as they require that all (or at least some) of the pre-baptismal rites be performed on the day of the Divine Liturgy (or, on the other hand, they do not provide sufficient rubrics for how to disengage the two sections). Also, these revised Orthodox rites sometimes propose a duplication of the Liturgy of the Word. They insist that the three antiphons (etc.) be sung, rather than having the baptismal rite from “Blessed be the Kingdom” to the augmented litany supplant the Liturgy of the Word – a normal pattern for the Byzantine Rite. (It is, for example, the pattern prescribed when Vespers in conjoined to the Divine Liturgy on the eves of certain feasts).

VI. The Practice of Other Eastern Catholic Churches

To date at least three Eastern Catholic publications with ordines for a renewed rite of initiation have appeared. (Two of these are from Ukrainian Greco-Catholic authorities, and the third from the Byzantine Catholic Metropolia of Pittsburgh. 352 Peter Galadza

There is also the proposal of the Liturgical Commission of the Prešov Metropolia.) All of these proposals have been taken into account in the present proposal.

VII. Legitimate Concerns Regarding the Proposal

1. What is to be done in territories where great distances prevent the parents and priest from meeting more than once, that is, on the very day of the baptism? It would seem that in such cases, celebrating the baptism in the context of a regular parish Divine Liturgy (on Sunday) is even more important as people residing far from the parish need contact with the parish community even more. However, in order to facilitate such a celebration, it would be necessary to begin the various rites pertaining to the making of a catechumen (exorcisms, etc.) at least thirty minutes before the time appointed for the start of the Sunday Divine Liturgy.

2. What is to be done in parishes where there are several or more baptisms every week? Such a large parish will always have more than one Sunday Divine Liturgy. Thus, one of the liturgies can be designated as the Liturgy during which baptisms are celebrated. Expe- rience suggests that this would usually be the last Divine Liturgy as parents need more time to prepare themselves and their families for the baptism. It makes sense to designate one Sunday liturgy per month as the one when baptisms take place.

3. Which words/rites should be repeated for each child separately when more than one child is being initiated? Only the actual baptismal formula (“The servant of God, NN, is baptized in the name of the Father…”) and only the actual chrismational formula (“The seal of the gift of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”) should be repeated. In the case of all of the other prayers/rites, the priest simply adds the names of the Restoration of Gradual Initiation into the Church 353

candidates as he performs the various rites over them, reciting each formula/prayer only once.

4. Which epistle and gospel should be read? Certainly the regular Sunday readings should never be omitted. Adding the baptismal epistle and gospel would prolong the service by only a few minutes, and so ideally two sets of readings could be read – with two prokeimena. However, if the Sunday readings contain themes that can easily be related to baptism, then presumably only one set of readings would suffice, though one must admit that the baptismal gospel is so short that it really makes sense to read it at every baptismal liturgy, even when the Sunday gospel com- mends itself with a baptismal theme. The reason for reading the Sunday readings is that otherwise the same readings will be heard every Sunday that a baptism occurs. In parishes where many baptisms are celebrated, this would be problematic.

5. What is to be done in territories where during the winter months the church building is so cold, that celebrations of baptism cannot feasibly take place in the nave of the church, but must take place in the sacristy? Cer- tainly in such cases the health of the child requires that the baptism take place in a heated space. However, at least the churching (which lasts no more than several minutes) should take place in the church, so that the child and her parents can be introduced to the parish. In this case they would arrive at the church near the end of a Divine Liturgy.

VIII. The Importance of Providing a Booklet for Clergy with the Outline of this Renewed Rite

If it is to successfully take effect, this new rite needs to be put into accessible booklet form. Without a booklet that provides the renewed ordo, there is little hope that most clergy will be able to make the adaptations. Fortunately, however, for 354 Peter Galadza

such a booklet to be published all that is required is for the already existing material found in the Trebnyk to be organized according to the pattern outlined above. Thus, it is not a matter of creating a new rite, but simply having the existing rite seg- mented according to a pattern more reflective of the original rite’s spirit and intent. In conclusion, such an organic revision is not only pastorally prudent, it is also anthropologically and historically sound.

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Review Essay

Byzantines, Ottomans, and Latins: Reconsidering the Politics

Nevra Necipoğlu, Byzantium between the Ottomans and the Latins: Politics and Society in the Late Empire (Cambridge, 2009), xiv + 372 pp.

Dimiter G. Angelov, ed., Church and Society in Late Byzan- tium (Medieval Institute Publications, 2009), 242 pp.

The history of the Byzantine Empire after the Latin conquest beginning in 1204 has been one defined by the influence and power of Byzantium’s rivals and enemies and the shifting, adaptive responses of Byzantines to the increasing influence of western European Catholic powers and the emergence of the Ottoman Turks in Anatolia. The increasingly straitened political and economic conditions of Byzantium from the thirteenth to the early fifteenth centuries coincided with a period of significant religious and intellectual activity. Even here, however, Byzantine dependence on western powers for political and military aid repeatedly generated internal divisions over the issue of church union that reinforced existing economic and political grievances. In response, Byzantine church and society identified themselves increasingly in terms of opposition to Latin Christians at the same time that many of their political and ecclesiastical elites were convinced of the necessity of allying with Latin Christians. Byzantium’s later status as a tributary to the sultan imposed strict limits on Byzantine rulers from the time of John V and dictated the nature of dynastic political competition until the final decades of the empire. For much of the last century of Byzantine rule, the “internal” conflicts between Palaiologan rulers and their rebel challengers often involved Ottoman support and intervention, so much so that seeking Ottoman assistance became a customary part of any attempt to gain the throne. Sultan Bayezid’s defeat at Ankara in 1402 at the hands 356 Daniel Larison

of Timur temporarily reversed the dynamic, but this respite simply underscored Byzantium’s extreme weakness in its last decades. On the other hand, the unsuccessful Nicopolis and Varna crusades of 1396 and 1444 revealed the limits of any promised western military aid. Given the empire’s predicament, most Byzantines moved into one of two alignments, either pro-Latin or pro-Ottoman, and there were very few Byzantines who could practically maintain an anti-Latin and anti-Ottoman position. Even in a greatly reduced, more homogenous Greek- speaking empire, these responses were not uniform but varied according to location, socioeconomic status, and political and religious views. In Byzantium between the Ottomans and the Latins, her careful study of competing political orientations in late Palaiologan Byzantine Thessalonike, Constantinople, and Morea, Nevra Necipoğlu has presented a detailed picture of the internal conflicts created within Byzantine society during a period of frequent warfare and territorial losses. She has also augmented the economic history of late Byzantium by explaining the economic and political incentives different groups of Byzantines had for cooperating with Latins and against Ottomans, with Ottomans and against Latins, or sometimes opportunistically with both. Necipoğlu has assembled an impressive body of evidence for her arguments, drawing on a wide array of Latin, Greek, Italian, and Turkish sources from chronicles and monastic records to council acts and the accounting books of Venetian merchants, and she has presented her material and citations effectively. The bibliography and index are very extensive and useful, and there are several appendices summarizing some basic, but nonetheless valuable prosopographical information on Thessalonian archontes, Constantinopolitan merchants, and Greek refugees in Italy. It is her use of this thorough prosopographical research that enriches Necipoğlu’s account and fills in the picture of Byzantine society during its last few decades. The most consistent division Necipoğlu describes is that between aristocrats in and around Thessalonike and Constan- tinople and the lower-class inhabitants of both cities. While Review Essay 357

traditionally landed aristocrats were turning to commerce and finance to increase their wealth, and they were often unwilling to break with their Italian trading partners and submit to Otto- man authority, the devastation experienced by lower-class Byzantines on account of persistent warfare inclined them towards concessions to the Ottomans and hostility to Latins. For these lower-class Byzantines, the Latins represented economic competition, religious heterodoxy, and the support of the archontes who enjoyed relative economic prosperity amid the general deprivation of the broader population. Most of the time aristocratic economic interests and connections in Italy combined with support for church union. As important as retaining Orthodoxy and the privileges of the Orthodox Church were to anti-unionists, who derived the bulk of their support from lower-class Byzantines, Necipoğlu makes a reasonable case that economic interests and grievances were also significant inspirations for pro-Ottoman, anti-Latin, and anti-union sentiments. The close attention to economic interests throughout Necipoğlu’s treatment of political and religious views deepens our understanding of the motives and allegiances of Palaio- logan-era Byzantines. In most narrative treatments of late Byzantium, resistance to church union has usually been understood almost entirely in terms of a popular religious backlash inspired by monastic leaders and fuelled by an excessive attachment to Orthodox doctrine and anti-Latin prejudice. Religious attachments and cultural antipathies undoubtedly were significant factors of anti-unionism, but what we find in Necipoğlu’s account is a more complicated explanation of what sustained anti-unionist and pro-Ottoman attitudes among lower-class Byzantines. There was an expectation of prosperity, or at least of peace that would reduce the internal conflicts within Byzantine society. Lower-class Byzantines saw no tangible advantage in perpetuating conflict with the Ottomans and saw many immediate disadvantages in welcoming Latin assistance and influence: submitting to Catholic ecclesiastical authority was only one of these. Economic incentives reinforced the strong appeal of Orthodox traditionalism. 358 Daniel Larison

There were a few Byzantine ecclesiastics who initially held a combined anti-Latin/anti-Ottoman position, such as Thessalonike’s Metropolitans Isidore Glabas and Symeon, whose homilies Necipoğlu relies on extensively in analyzing the political orientations in Thessalonike. Like the broader population that embraced an anti-Latin, anti-union position, Isidore’s early anti-Ottoman orientation was transformed into pragmatic acquiescence to Ottoman authority during periods of occupation so long as the Ottomans guaranteed the autonomy of the church and the judicial powers the archbishops had acquired earlier. Given the later alternative of Venetian military protection in the 1420s, Symeon’s anti-Latin position yielded to practical acceptance of assistance from Venice. The political and military situation in the late fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries was such that none could afford the luxury of resisting both Latin influence and Ottoman power at the same time for very long. As much as Ottoman conquests were forced upon Byzantium, there was a degree of grudging acceptance of the coming of Ottoman rule among most Byzantines that was prompted by their reactions to the growing influence of the Latins and the dealings Byzantine archontes had with them. Necipoğlu also discusses the most famous apocryphal statement expressing a preference for the turban over the miter attributed to Loukas Notaras, and proves fairly conclusively that Notaras held no such view. As she does with a number of other aristocratic families, she has investigated the economic practices of Notaras’ family and found that the Notarades were like many other members of their class in having long-established trading connections to Italy. Despite the well-known quote attributed to Notaras by the chronicler Doukas, anti- unionist sources do not identify Notaras as an ally, and Scho- larios himself specifically claims that Notaras was a unionist who favoured submitting to Rome out of political and military expedience alone. The case of Notaras, which at first appears to undermine her thesis of a close connection between economic interests and political-religious orientations, ultimately confirms the observation of a pattern of pro-Latin accom- Review Essay 359

modation among Byzantine aristocrats with economic interests in Italy. Reconstructing social history and recovering the views of social classes that have left behind no records of their own are always difficult tasks, and it is appropriate to use religious literature, including homilies, to find evidence describing social and economic conditions. It is still questionable how much one can expect that “preachings of the clergy” will be “more representative of the attitudes that prevailed among people of lower social rank.”1 Earlier in the fourteenth century, Gregory Palamas in his role as archbishop of Thessalonike railed against both exploitative landowners and rebellious Zealots in certain homilies, but it is potentially very misleading to assume from this that the statements of a learned, elite monastic engaged in a rhetorical performance for a high ecclesiastical office were representative of lower-class attitudes. This applies equally to Thessalonike’s later archbishops. As Necipoğlu discussed in her second chapter on Thessa- lonike, two of Isidore’s homilies restated a hierarchical understanding of the importance of obedience to established secular authorities and emphasized the virtues and qualifications of the city’s archontes. These homilies certainly bear witness to deep social tensions in Thessalonike, but Isidore’s preaching itself is unlikely to be very representative of the attitudes of lower- class Thessalonians, whom Isidore was counselling against disobedience and unrest. To the extent that these two homilies reflect lower-class attitudes, they do so indirectly by alerting us to the discontent that Isidore was attempting to reduce. Anti-Latin opposition in this period could take the straightforward form of rejection of papal authority and church union. As Dimiter Angelov shows in Church and Society in Late Byzantium in his article, “The Donation of Constantine,” it could also be found in more complicated arguments that sought either to use the forged Donation of Constantine to undermine papal claims or to debunk the Donation entirely as a fraud. Despite the obvious pro-papal message of the Donation, Angelov details how Byzantine authors circulated and used the

1 Necipoğlu, Byzantium Between the Ottomans and the Latins, 13–14. 360 Daniel Larison

text in different ways to bolster the authority and status of the patriarch of Constantinople or dismiss the Petrine argument for papal authority. For some Palaiologan anti-Latin polemicists, such as Barlaam of Calabria, the Donation provided valuable ammuni- tion by locating the source of papal authority in the grant bes- towed on Pope Sylvester I by Constantine rather than in the succession from Saint Peter. This made the status of the bishop of Rome something of human origin, which could then be used to support the equality of the other patriarchates. Others saw it as evidence supporting the elevated status for bishops and the requirement of secular rulers, including the emperor, to show special deference and respect to them, and this was then applied to patriarchs in Constantinople. After 1204, patriarchs and their supporters cited the relationship between Constantine and Pope Sylvester as a model for contemporary emperors to follow, and Metropolitan Symeon of Thessalonike was one of the last Byzantine churchmen to cite the Donation to protest imperial interference in internal church affairs. Most important of the examples Angelov investigates was that of Makarios, metropolitan of Ankara residing in Constan- tinople at the turn of the fifteenth century, who systematically and carefully critiqued the authenticity of the Donation on historical grounds. Angelov’s treatment of the criticism represents the first extensive discussion of Makarios’s argument. While he emphasizes the significance of Makarios’s work, he remains doubtful that Makarios’s argument inspired subsequent Renaissance critics of the same text. This conclusion seems reasonable, as there is no evidence of circulation of Makarios’s writings in Italy, and it is improbable that an anti- Latin text would find much of a receptive audience in the west. Generally, the Palaiologan intellectuals that generated the greatest interest in the west were either overtly supportive of church union and some aspects of scholastic thought, such as Demetrios Kydones, or they were at least not actively hostile to union. Most accounts of late Byzantine culture have tended to divide sharply between “humanists” and hesychasts, pitting intellectuals open to western thought against monastics ada- mantly opposed both to Catholic doctrine and new methods of Review Essay 361

reasoning. The case of Makarios of Ankara offers evidence that the nature of this divide can be easily exaggerated. Makarios was an anti-Latin hierarch who could engage in rigorous historical criticism similar to that used later by Italian humanists in the service of his polemical purpose, and he produced a polemic inspired by the prospect of church union and submission to papal authority that anticipated Italian humanist criticism of the Donation. Makarios “shared with his renowned Renaissance contemporaries a common historical approach to textual critique, a central feature of the new age of humanism.”2 While rising Latin influence provoked Byzantine reactions centered on religious differences, wars with the Ottoman Turks generated a different, liturgical response in the form of the composition of new prayers and services in preparation for conflict with Muslims. In “From Constantinople to Moscow,” Philip Slavin has introduced the reader to twenty-two new prayers composed between 1336 and 1360, sixteen of which concerned war with the Ottomans, and has classified and analyzed them in his study of the Byzantine liturgy of war. Most of the sixteen are prayers for aid against invasion, and some are more general supplications for intercession on behalf of Christians against their enemies. Overwhelmingly, the prayers Slavin has discussed are concerned with defence and requests for divine forgiveness that will remove the moral and spiritual causes of the invasions. Nonetheless, Slavin argued that he located “elements of an ideology of holy warfare” in these prayers that challenge the view that Byzantines had no notion of holy war.3 Whether or not Byzantines had their own concept of holy war has been a contested point, and part of the reason for the disagreement is the differing standards by which scholars have judged Byzantine war rhetoric and ideology. Warfare against non-Christian powers inevitably involved some official rhetoric that portrayed conflicts in strongly religious, triumphalist language. Sasanian-Byzantine wars in the fifth and again in the seventh century provided examples of this before the coming

2 Angelov, “The Donation of Constantine,” 124. 3 Slavin, “From Constantinople to Moscow,” 212. 362 Daniel Larison

of Islam, and George of Pisidia’s panegyrics dedicated to Heraclius are well-known contributions to this literature. George of Pisidia’s Contra Severum celebrated Heraclius’s victory over the Sasanians in close connection with his sup- posed theological triumph over non-Chalcedonians at a 631 synod in Hierapolis, which presented a picture of Heraclius as the empire’s military and spiritual champion, but even this was a combination of traditional praise for the emperor and normal theological polemic. As infused with religious enthusiasm and imagery as George’s poems were, they remained panegyrics working within the traditions of Roman imperial ideology. As much as the seventh-century war against the Sasanians might lend itself to comparisons with later wars to retake Jerusalem, the Byzantines at the time regarded it as a Roman defensive war. That war had a religious dimension, because of Sasanian Zoroastrianism, the occupation of Jerusalem, and capture of the relics of the True Cross, but holy war was something else. The same argument applies to later Byzantine periods as well. To the extent that the Byzantines regarded themselves as the New Israel and Constantinople as their Jerusalem, there were bound to be prayers and religiously-charged rhetoric that invoked the protection of God and the Theotokos. Biblical imagery and comparisons of Byzantine emperors with pro- phets and kings of the Old Testament were evidence of the extent to which the empire had been Christianized, but they do not in themselves prove that Byzantines conceived of war as sacred or holy. Crucially, even after their exposure to Cru- sading ideas on warfare and penance, the Byzantines never understood war as a holy undertaking through which someone might expiate his sins, much less that he could achieve salvation as a martyr on the battlefield. Famously, Nikephoros II Phokas (963–69) failed to persuade Patriarch Polyeuktos that his fallen soldiers should be recognized as martyrs in their wars against Muslims in Syria and Cyprus, and there is no record that any later emperors revisited the question. Slavin is correct that Byzantines did employ religious rhetoric justifying defensive warfare and offered prayers appealing for divine aid, and Byzantines could liken their conflicts to apocalyptic struggles. However, even when wars were Review Essay 363

being fought against non-Christian foes they did not acquire the distinction of being holy wars. If we accept that Byzantines possessed a Roman national identity, as Anthony Kaldellis has argued in Hellenism in Byzantium, we might understand these prayers better as invocations for help in wars of national defence and survival. Particularly by the fourteenth century, as Byzantium was beginning to weaken to a point where it would become an Ottoman tributary state, Byzantines were facing the possibility of the collapse of their polity and the captivity of their nation. When they likened their predicament to that of Israel, Byzantine authors of these prayers were drawing on the scriptural sources that addressed the plight of the people of God confronted by their enemies. The “mere desire for victory at home” that the Byzantines had was the product of their tradition of just war, and the fourteenth-century prayers were aimed to secure the empire of the Romans that the Orthodox Church likened to Israel. Necipoğlu’s final section concerns Byzantine political orientations in the Morea, whose aristocracy had more diverse and changeable responses to Latin influence and Ottoman success. The Morea was less directly threatened by Ottoman military advances after Bayezid’s defeat at Ankara, and as a result Moreote landowners were more concerned to protect their holdings and privileges against increased central authority from Manuel II in Constantinople. Many Moreote land- lords were willing to make accommodations with either Otto- mans or Latins depending on circumstances and guarantees of their position and property. Most high-ranking Moreote families changed their orientations and allegiances as necessary to secure their positions, and even preferred disorder and conflict so long as it ensured their independence from Con- stantinople. One interesting case that Necipoğlu examines at length concerns the Eudaimonoioannes family, which took a sustained pro-Latin political stance in keeping with its history of submission to Frankish rule and its business dealings in Italy. The Eudaimonoioannes family cultivated strong relations with Venice, and one of its leading members, Nicholas, was deeply involved in diplomatic exchanges with the Republic 364 Daniel Larison

and arranged marriages for leading members of the Palaio- logan dynasty as well as attending the Council of Constance to propose church union. Nicholas Eudaimonoioannes provides an example of a Moreote landowner whose family’s economic interests aligned with the diplomatic projects of the emperor. His case suggests that sufficiently strong economic ties to Italy tended to bind even independent-minded Moreote landowners to the imperial center when it concerned Constantinople’s diplomatic relations in the west. Urban monastic foundations in Thessalonike and Constan- tinople were among the institutions most negatively affected by Ottoman territorial gains in the late fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries. Fiscal losses through alienation of property were the main cause of church decline in the late Byzantine period as a whole. Necipoğlu has described this process for non-Athonite monasteries in the major cities, which lost many of their rural properties to Ottoman control, and monasteries’ abbots had to negotiate with Ottoman authorities for economic concessions despite their initial anti-Ottoman/anti-Latin stance. Tom Papademetriou provides additional examination of this process of impoverishment in “The Turkish Conquests and the Decline of the Church.” Papademetriou examined the Patriar- chal Acta, the record of the patriarchal synod in Constan- tinople, and found that the responses of Anatolian bishops to Turkish control might sometimes be the same kind of resistance to central, patriarchal authority and accommodation with local Turkish rulers that Necipoğlu identified in the Morea among Byzantine landowners. In order to secure property rights, competing Anatolian bishops often sought the mediation and support of Turkish authorities. This was a practical solution for those bishops that remained in their dioceses, but this necessarily put them at odds with the patriarchate, which condemned the involvement of Turkish rulers in any ecclesiastical matters. As the examples of the Moreote landowners suggest, however, these accommodations with non-Byzantine authorities and resistance to Constantinople’s control reflected both the needs of local secular and ecclesiastical leadership and the significant limits Review Essay 365

of the power of both Byzantine church and state in the Palaio- logan era. Late Byzantine society was sharply divided by glaring social and economic inequalities that shaped and reinforced internal political and religious antagonisms. The economic and political interests of Byzantium’s archontes were sufficiently at odds with the broad majority of the inhabitants of the empire’s two major cities, and the interests of Moreote landowners were at odds with the emperors’ attempts to re-establish control in their region, and this dictated their respective responses to church union and Ottoman power. The promise of religious autonomy under the Ottomans in which pro-Ottoman Byzantines trusted was partly undermined by many monasteries’ losses of productive territories and the ongoing impoverishment of the church under Ottoman rule. Severe deprivation caused by persistent warfare with the Ottomans naturally inclined the majority of the population towards a position of accommodation with the Ottomans. This complemented their strong attachment to an Orthodox identity coloured by resentments against Latins and the Byzantine elites who cooperated with them. Perhaps because they were similar in religion while still being significantly different in their customs and beliefs, the Latins represented more of an intangible threat to the Byzantines than the tangible losses to the Ottomans. The hoped-for post-conquest elimination of intra-Byzantine conflicts that had motivated lower-class support for accommodation with the Ottomans ultimately came at the price of the loss of empire, but this was a smaller price than the feared loss of identity that would come with church union.

Daniel Larison Chicago, IL

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Book Reviews

C. Paul Schroeder, St. Basil the Great: On Social Justice (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2009), 111 pp.

All students of the Fathers should be grateful for this new volume. The St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press Popular Patristics Series has done a very good job at publishing important works of the Church Fathers – eighty titles and counting. This series is a wonderful resource for college-level courses in church history, patristics, or social-theological ethics. St. Basil the Great On Social Justice is just what the title says: a collection of homilies by Basil on the care for the poor and reaching out to others. This seemingly small volume has much to commend it to pastors, lay leaders, and anyone interested in outreach, poverty, oppression of the poor, and related issues. Gregory P. Yova, director of Project Mexico, a pan-Ortho- dox outreach ministry in southern California, introduces the volume. Project Mexico assists the poor and destitute as well as orphans. Every summer young people from across the United States and Canada spend a week at Project Mexico assisting at the orphanage and building houses for the local population near Tijuana, Mexico. Yova knows the challenges, trials, and tribulations of working in a non-profit organization aimed at following Jesus’ command of loving both God and neighbour in a real and concrete way. After Yova’s brief preface and a thorough introduction to the life and times of Basil, the book continues with four chapters: “To the Rich,” “I Will Tear Down My Barns,” “In Time of Famine and Drought,” and “Against Those Who Lend at Interest.” A fifth homily is included in an appendix: “On Mer- cy and Justice,” which is thought to be a Pseudo-Basilian homily. Scholars are unsure of the author though clearly it is written in the same vein as Basil’s other homilies. The book concludes with a bibliography for further reading. Certainly Basil was a great churchman, leader, and theologian probably best known for his theological reflections on the Holy Trinity. Basil lived and ministered during the middle of the Trinitarian debates and was caught in the theological cross- 368 William Mills

fire between many divided groups of Christians. Schroeder reminds us that while Basil was a well known and important theologian, he was certainly not holed up in his cathedral in Cappadocia writing theological orations and sermons; Basil was a pastor at heart and as the chief shepherd and pastor he was firmly committed to the spiritual and physical welfare of those under his care. It was Basil who saw the need to establish what Gregory Nazianzus called the “new city” or later called the Basiliad also known as the “city of Basil.” The Basiliad was located just outside the city. It was a refuge for orphans, widows, and anyone who needed help, offering shelter and food, free medical attention, and material resources. Basil eventually added a makeshift hospital and a hospice for those who were dying. As Yova writes in the introduction, “the Basiliad was in many ways the culmination of Basil’s social vision, the fruit of his efforts to develop a more just and humane social order within the region of Caeserea” (33). For the most part, the Basiliad was created in response to several major earthquakes that hit the area in AD 369, causing great devastation and poverty. On Social Justice cannot be judged by its brevity. Coming in at around 111 pages it is packed with pearls of wisdom for preaching, teaching, and pastoral care. Certainly there are parishes here in North America that have the resources to create and establish mini versions of the Basiliad, small out- posts where people could receive spiritual, mental, and financial assistance. If parishes are unable to do it alone they could certainly work together with other Christians in the community. Reading Basil’s sermons I kept thinking of Matthew 25 or Saint Paul’s collection for the Jerusalem Church. I reflected on the ministry of Mother Maria Skobtsova who, in World War II Paris, collected food and rations for the poor. My mind was drawn to the work of the International Orthodox Christian Charities and the countless men and women in the wider Christian tradition who devoted themselves to the poor and outcast: Martin Luther King, Jr., Dorothy Day, Jean Vanier, and more contemporary persons like Sara Miles and her food pantry at Saint Gregory of Nyssa Church in San Francisco. Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 369

These people, some well known and others not, have taken Jesus’ command of love and neighbour seriously. They have, in many ways, established their own Basiliad where people find solace in this arid world in which we live. I commend St. Vladimir’s for publishing this volume and C.P. Schroeder for his translation.

William Mills Charlotte, NC

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Alexander Schmemann, Journal (1973–1983), ed. Nikita Struve, trans. Anne Davidenkoff, Anne Kichilov, René Mari- chal (Paris: Éditions des Syrtes, 2009), 924 pp. + 16 pp. of photos.

The posthumous publication of letters, journals, and memoirs of well-known writers often occasions a great deal of comment and controversy. Such publications reveal even more of their authors’ personalities, their weaknesses and triumphs. If anyone had been placed on some kind of pedestal of perfec- tion or lost in stained-glass sanctity, journal entries and letters demolished such stereotypes. We read of their anger, disillu- sionment, prejudices, and idiosyncrasies. And what is the result? Do we reject them as frauds or hypocrites? Not at all. For me at least, their humanity shines as never before. We understand such people – as I have elsewhere argued – to have lived a Hidden Holiness (University of Notre Dame Press, 2009), to be Saints as They Really Are (UND Press, forthcoming). One such person is Alexander Schmemann. In 2002, a heavily edited translation of excerpts from his journals was published by St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, the institution he served as dean until 1983. That collection revealed a theologian and priest who was also friend to the likes of Solzhenitsyn and Brodsky and a devotee of French literature. The selections 370 Michael Plekon

also showed Schmemann as a most thoughtful and discerning critic of political events and social transformations, and an ad- ministrator at odds with the many meetings and issues of both St. Vladimir’s and the Orthodox Church in America. Schmemann’s chef d’oeuvre was posthumously published as The Eucharist: Sacrament of the Kingdom. Only in passing in a footnote does he credit his teacher and mentor, Nicholas Afanasiev, who in the late 1920s began the work that would culminate in his rediscovery of the “eucharistic ecclesiology” of the early Church that in turn so influenced Vatican II. The eminent liturgical scholar Robert Taft noted in a recent tribute to Schmemann that virtually no theologian of the Eastern Church – and perhaps beyond that – had the shelf-life that Schmemann’s books continue to enjoy. Nonetheless, Schmemann found writing to be torture. He spent an entire summer producing twenty-five pages of a chapter on the “sacrament of the Holy Spirit.” But he did finish his masterpiece – in between all his trips across the United States, Canada, and Europe as a lecturer to various audiences, including Orthodox, Presbyterian, Episcopalian and Roman Catholic. He was an advisor for years to the bishops of his church. He shaped parish clergy as well as scholars and bishops for over thirty years until his death from cancer in December 1983. A student of such émigré luminaries as Sergius Bulgakov, Anton Kartashev, Afanasiev, Kyprian Kern, Basil Zenkovsky, Vladimir Veidlé and others, he seldom mentions them unless one has died or he is picking away critically at their literary style and scholarly aims. Perhaps, decades later in the 1970s and 1980s – the period covered by these journals – the memory was less vivid, though when figures from his past are remembered, the memoir is usually powerful. In reading this version of the ten years of notebook journals Schmemann kept – the full text now available in both the original Russian and French translation – one is struck by a much more complex and complicated personality and mind. Before going on, let me plead that those in control of these texts allow them to be published in English translation – not the truncated collections of excerpts, but the full entries, and all of them. And let me further note that not only should the Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 371

full journal see the light of day in English, but also his letters and perhaps earlier papers and memoirs. There is a wealth of tapes and transcriptions of the thousands of talks Schmemann recorded for Radio Liberty for broadcast to the USSR. A very large volume of these has been published in Russian; but there are only smaller collections in French and English translation. In these journals, the identity of most people to whom he refers in difficult situations and most caustically seem to have been artfully obscured by the frequent use of “N.,” so that only those close to the writer will know who exactly is being mentioned. The translators and editor of the French edition have also compiled an extensive list of those referred to by name and identified them. The same team has produced a marvellous gallery of photographs that document Schmemann’s life from childhood till months before his death. I have been reading and writing about Schmemann for some time now and I will admit that in the portrait created by these journals we see other Schmemanns – or, better stated, a number of the other sides of his personality and thought. And not all of them are attractive or admirable. One is a cranky conservative who finds it difficult to recognize much if anything constructive in those he labels “of the left” or “liberal.” He ridicules many aspects of American life, shows nothing but revulsion for the cultural and social changes of the 1960s, and manifests a lot of discomfort with the women’s movement, with some pontificating by him on the charisms and place of women in both society and church. He notices what is noble in the faces of poor African Americans he sees on the streets of New York City while at the same time poking fun at the obses- sions of affluent parents at his wife’s toney Manhattan prep school. He enjoys the faculty apartment, a pied-à-terre in the city her position as head of school provides. He in fact is close to Woody Allen in worshipping Manhattan’s diversity and mystery, Gotham’s electricity and glamour. Schmemann speaks in the most affectionate detail about the small world of family, close friends, and favourite Russian authors as well as beloved mentors. But for the difficulties of social life he seems to have little time. He writes off President Jimmy Carter as a Puritan moralist. He sneers at American 372 Michael Plekon

materialism while glorying in the egalitarianism and opportunities America provides for immigrants like himself. And yet this is the same individual who loathes the obsession of Rus- sian émigrés with their Russianness, disdaining Solzhenitsyn for a mythical Russia that never existed. This is the same priest who waxes nostalgically over the elaborate liturgical style of the Rue Daru cathedral in Paris even as he laments the “vaude- ville” of klobuks and cassocks on traditionalist clergy and seminarians in what he truly believed was a liberated, open Orthodox Church in America. Finally dismissed by the bishops he had advised, even mentored for many years, he recognizes how the tiniest bit of power even in a very small church intoxi- cates and distorts common sense and compassion. Having wielded enormous influence in his church, he comes to wonder in his journal what the point of it all was. There is so much here to encounter and digest. There is irritation and aggravation over so many meetings of faculty, boards, over various dramas large and small at St. Vladimir’s seminary. There are expressions of profound, almost inexpressible joy when out to walk in the woods around Labelle, Quebec, the site of family summer vacations. There are so very many discerning comments after a particular festal liturgy or while reading the memoirs of an author or a periodical full of spirited criticism and rejoinder. There is the great love for his “Liana” – Juliana, his wife, his children and their spouses and numerous grandchildren, other relatives and friends. There is the facing of the diagnosis of terminal cancer, suddenly, at the age of only 61 in 1982. Months later, after silence – no entries – there is a final one acknowledging how many thoughts, questions and impressions he had through his treatments and the progress of the disease. What a treasure these would have been had he put some of them down. But in this last passage he is all about joy and gratitude for the goodness and happiness of his life. When he received communion just before his death he replied as in the liturgy: “Amen, amen, amen.” This is a publication of immense importance and worth, the record of a decade of an exceptional person and life. I believe, as with Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day, that such journal entries make possible what the published writing alone Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 373

cannot show us – the intricate web of contradictions and prejudices, of deep discernments and courageous criticism, that made Schmemann a giant whose like cannot be found today. Éditions des Syrtes and the editorial team are to be congratula- ted and praised for a beautiful and meticulous book.

Michael Plekon Baruch College of the City University of New York

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Aidan Nichols, Rome and the Eastern Churches: a Study in Schism, rev. ed. (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2010), 407 pp.

Nobody in ecclesiology or ecumenism should be without this excellent book. Originally published in 1990, the book has been reissued with a new preface, a new conclusion, and much new material throughout, reflecting the changed status of Eastern Christians in general, and Eastern Catholics in particular, following the collapse of the Soviet Union right after the first edition was published. Nichols, a Cambridge Dominican, is author of previous significant works on, inter alia, Maximus the Confessor and Nicholas Afanasiev. The present book cogently covers an enormous terrain of history and we see Nichols ably citing ancient and modern, and Orthodox, Catho- lic, and Protestant sources in a half-dozen languages. Readers of this journal will be especially heartened to read the new preface in which Nichols says his main purpose in updating the text was to “offer a more robust apologia for the existence of the – sometimes but not always – distinctly minoritarian Oriental churches in union with Rome” (19). That apologia, offered without condescension, romanticism, or trium- phalism, manifests an understanding of Eastern Catholics that is marked by more generosity and imagination than I have seen from any other contemporary Roman Catholic theologian. At the same time, he is sympathetically and respectfully aware of the Orthodox objections to “Uniatism.” Nichols in- 374 Adam A.J. DeVille

sists that “Uniate,” today reprobated as offensive, is, in fact, when “rightly understood … a beautiful word” (19). But, he asks, “is Uniatism also a beautiful concept?” To this he replies that “Uniatism should be reread as a term of Christian escha- tology.” Suggesting that the complete union of all Christians is probably not something we will see in history, he says that Eastern Catholics should be understood as being “ordered to the manifestation of the unity of disciples on the human side of the Eschaton.” From this “viewpoint … the fact that most Eastern Catholic churches are minoritarian, and some glaringly so, does not constitute a problem. The dignity of their eschatological significance is unaffected by a numbers game” (20). I am not entirely convinced by this eschatological argument, if only because it would seem to offer an easy escape to those Orthodox who may wish to dismiss unity with Rome as something not to be seen on this side of history. Nichols’ next move is to insist that “it is high time Catho- lics ceased to be so preoccupied with apologizing for the Uniate churches that they fail to seek a recognition of the in- justices done to those churches, notably in the twentieth century, from the Orthodox side” (20). (This sentence foot- notes Robert Taft’s article “The Problem of ‘Uniatism’ and the ‘Healing of Memories’,” which Logos published in our forty- first volume.) Roman Catholics need to offer their long-suf- fering Eastern brethren “the overdue recognition of their proper liberties within the Catholica” in three forms: the right of patriarchal-synodal governance, the global jurisdiction of Eastern Catholic Churches (reflecting the fact that most East- ern Catholics live outside their “homelands”), and the right to maintain a married priesthood. On the question of patriarchal governance, Nichols offers what I take to be an oblique rebuke (made more explicit later in the text) to Roman Catholics and Orthodox alike in their denying the title of “patriarch” to the head of the Ukrainian Greco-Catholic Church (UGCC), a move Nichols decries as favouring “ecumenism only in the short-term” (22). Taking the long-term view, one would realize (as the late Ukrainian Orthodox Archbishop Vsevelod Majdansky insisted in at least two articles of his that Logos published over the years) that ro- Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 375

bust examples of Eastern Catholic patriarchal governance are necessary to allay Orthodox fears about communion with Rome by demonstrating that being in communion does not en- tail patriarchal subordination to the Roman bishop, much less his curia. In his final chapter, Nichols discusses a fascinating proposal of the French Jesuit Bertrand de Margerie on the vexed question of councils counted as “ecumenical” by the West alone. Nichols denies that the pope’s recognition of a council should be considered necessarily definitive: “the pope is not the exclusive bearer of representation of the whole Church” (372). Margerie’s proposal ties “ecumenicity” to attendance: only councils with representatives from all five of the ancient patriarchates can be counted ecumenical in the fullest sense. Margerie divides the councils into three categories: councils dealing purely with internal, local reform (the first three Late- ran councils, and Lyons I); councils expounding doctrine, but doing so without representatives from the East (Lateran IV, Lyons II, Vienne, Constance, and Vatican I); and councils properly called ecumenical because they “best manifest the Church’s catholicity and exhibit the highest degree of ecumenicity” (374). Here Margerie cites, curiously, Florence and Vatican II, but also Nicaea and Chalcedon. There are a few typographical errors dealing with dates (the Annuario Pontificio dropped the title “patriarch of the West” in 2006, not 2000, as reported on p.317; Olivier Clément’s book on the papacy was published in English in 2003, not 2000, as the footnote on p.362 has it; and the Ravenna meeting of the Orthodox-Catholic dialogue was 2007, not 2006 as indicated on p.368). But there are numerous recent works not cited in the short bibliographies at the end of each chapter, which could have been updated more than they were. Ron Roberson’s The Eastern Christian Churches: a Brief Survey (not The Eastern Catholic [sic] Churches: A Brief Survey, as listed on p.384) is now in a seventh edition, going beyond the sixth edition, published in 1999, on which Nichols relies in many places. Nichols ends soberly, wondering about the very real prospect of East-West unity being derailed anew by that an- 376 Adam A.J. DeVille

cient sin of Eastern Christianity, namely nationalism. While I would not downplay that possibility, I do not think this argument takes sufficient account of some relatively heartening recent developments, including greater Moscow-Rome cooperation in resisting the secular-nihilist drift of modern Europe. Nonetheless, he recognizes (as he did in his 1999 book Christendom Awake) that Catholicism desperately needs Orthodoxy onboard so that the latter can stabilize and strengthen the former liturgically, doctrinally, morally, and monas- tically. In such a mutually renewed fashion, both can, together, re-evangelize an increasingly rebarbative world. For such we must pray ardently.

Adam A.J. DeVille University of Saint Francis

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Frank J. Coppa, Politics and the Papacy in the Modern World (Westport-London: Praeger, 2008).

The current book is a reworking of an earlier book entitled The Modern Papacy Since 1789 (Longman 1998), to which the author has added material pertaining to the last years of the pontificate of John Paul II and the beginning of that of Benedict XVI. The main argument of Coppa’s first book was that the modern popes should not be divided into the categories of traditionalists and innovators. Instead, he emphasized that each pontiff permitted whatever changes were not in opposition to Catholic dogma. It is evident that in his new work, the author is unable to apply such a schema to the current pontificate. In- stead, he focuses more on portraying the popes as both moral and political leaders dealing with realities in and outside of the Catholic Church. Politics and the Papacy possesses several redeeming features brought over from the earlier book. It represents a good, Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 377

readable, and largely accurate summary of the papacies of the nineteenth century. Coppa’s best historical research is on Pius IX, from whose archivio particolare (in ASV) he makes numerous citations. In chapter 7, the author presents a balanced judgment of early twentieth-century pontificates. He follows a more rigorous historical approach in identifying Pius XI’s opposition to totalitarianism (110) and presenting a good assessment of that pontiff’s opposition to Fascism and Nazism together with Cardinal Pacelli’s caution and restraint. In dealing with the figure of Pius XII, he criticizes the unhistorical “Hitler’s pope” theory (128) and cites contemporary Jewish praise of the pontiff, considering works by Jewish authors both for and against Pius XII. He explains the often overlooked distinction between the Holy See and Vatican City. The author develops a crucial insight: most polemical literature on Pius XII has been written not by historians but by journalists. Chapter 8 is valuable in its recognition of the historical consequences of the papacy’s contribution to international diplomacy during the Cold War and its warnings to world leaders about Soviet power. He draws attention to the Holy See’s support for the United Nations as being based on its long held doctrine that national sovereignty is not absolute; and mentions the liquidation of the Ukrainian Greco-Catholic Church at the end of the Second World War. Chapter 10 represents a good summary of the divisions in the Church following the Second Vatican Council and the Holy See’s success on the level of international diplomacy. Regrettably, the author makes numerous dubious affirma- tions. The introduction and conclusion to this work are per- vaded by a journalistic ideology, most citations being from The Tablet and Peter Hebblethwaite, even those referring to doctrinal issues. Although he laments journalists’ non-historical criticism of Pius XII, Coppa appears unable to temper his new work accordingly. He makes numerous blanket statements without citing sources, people, or places (e.g., “some observers inside and outside” [2] and “some suggested” [179]). He errs by claiming a change in church teaching on artificial contra- ception (citing the “magisterial” Tablet) and presents what he 378 Athanasius McVay

identifies as conservative positions in the form of caricatures drawn by their opponents. The work contains too many factual errors: the date of Nicholas II’s edict of religious tolerance is 1905 not 1906 (62); the “Duke of Savoy” must be the king of Sardinia-Piedmont (87); Pius XI did not “admire” Marshall Pilsudski nor did he have “positive notions of dictators” (99) (consult the archives of the Secretariat of State or those of the Warsaw nunciature) nor did he succeed in abolishing all placets with concordats (for example, the 1925 Concordat with Poland) (102); the statement that Pius XI “supposedly approved the coup of Primo de Rivera” (106) is unhistorical and unsubstantiated; secret results of conclave voting are presented as facts without sources (162); “traditionalists” at the Second Vatican Council are identified with the Italians and the Curia (170); Coppa claims that “we don’t know how Pius [XII] perceived Montini in postwar years? (170) (what about Benny Lai’s interview with Cardinal Siri?); and he gives the impression that Cassa- rolli was the immediate successor of Tardini. In fact, at the time when the former was sent to Prague in 1963, he was seventeen years away from becoming secretary of state. The author makes the peculiar claim that Pope John Paul II “resurrected” the condemnation of indifferentism (200), a doctrine entirely incompatible with Christian belief. Queen Elizabeth II’s first visit to John Paul II was not her first visit to a pope since she had visited three popes before him. This book needed a good copy editor. It contains numerous textual and spelling errors: “Propaganda Fede” for “Fide”; Rampolla is misspelled “Rompolla” five times (58, 59, 64, 66) but spelled correctly twice (67,79); “Acta Apostolicae” is missing “Sedis” (108); surely Divino afflante spiritu refers to historical criticism and not to “critical historicism” (134); a “Gallic attempt” for an attempt by Charles de Gaulle (163); “Atononiutti” for Antoniutti (169). Additionally, the critical apparatus of the work is seriously flawed. Most of the sources in the introduction and conclusion are from popular, non-historical journals, especially The Tablet, except for one citation of the Bullarium, which is out of place and appears to be second-hand. There are too many Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 379

citations from works of mediocre historical value, such as Spies in the Vatican. There are not enough citations in the narrative of chapter 5. Most sources cited in reference to twentieth-century popes are dated. There is no sign in the book itself that Coppa examined the contents of the Acta Nuntia- turae Poloniae, which is cited in the bibliography. Mention of Metropolitan Sheptytsky’s letter to Pius XII on the atrocities and evil of the Nazi regime bears no citation (129) even though it is reproduced in ADSS. For both Hitler’s words (133) or Cassarolli’s opinions (158) he cites Hebblethwaite instead of Hitler’s Table Talk and Cassarolli’s memoirs, Il martirio della pazienza. Whatever historical value the main body of the book possess is sullied by its diatribe against the current pope in chapter 12. The author appears to be unable to conceal his disdain for Benedict XVI, which is manifested in a number of ways: by frequent use of nicknames to refer to the pontiff; by an unsubstantiated claim that Ratzinger left his liberal roots in order to earn the cardinalate; and by use of the discourteous expression “supposedly fluent” to refer to the pontiff’s linguistic abilities (205–206). He labels the Ratzinger Report an “insidious attack against aggiornamento” and “a traditionalist crusade” (207). He calls Pope Benedict’s reforms a “traditionalist track” (208) and uses vocabulary such as “thundering against” (209) and “harped upon” to refer to papal utterances (210). For all of the aforementioned criticisms, the reader is directed to journalists’ pronouncements. Coppa insinuates that only “traditionalists” insist on the primacy of Rome, when, in fact, the primacy itself (aside from the manner of its exercise) is not a matter of ecumenical debate. He makes no reference to the pope’s curial reforms and is unable concede him an objective treatment, instead treating his antagonists as credible sources. The author begins by stating that he intends to examine the papacy as it is seen critically and politically from the outside world. On the contrary, he does not base this critique on the observations of politicians, political analysts, or non-Catholic notables. His actual goal appears to be an attack on the papacy from within ostensibly Catholic circles. Thus what began as a 380 Athanasius McVay

good summary of the history of the popes and political and diplomatic history descends, in the final analysis, into a tendentious and ideological attack on the papacy, especially its current incumbent.

Athanasius McVay London, England

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Hans van Loon, The Dyophysite Christology of Cyril of Alexandria (Brill, 2009), xvi + 632 pp.

In his preface and introduction, Loon writes that his study was occasioned by the ecumenical consultations between the Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian Orthodox Churches. He notes that both are using Cyril of Alexandria’s mia fÚsij formula as the basis of their dialogue. In his opinion two main concerns need to be addressed: (1) an ecumenical agreement using Cyril’s formula might jeopardize the dialogue between the eastern and western churches; and (2) some have explicitly criticized the agreement for alienating western Christianity. He also contends that the ecclesiastical agreements between the two eastern churches misinterpret Cyril’s Christology. His book, then, seeks to be a systematic study of Cyril’s key Christological terms in order to fill a lacuna in the field and to propose a reconsideration of the terms of agreement between the Orthodox. In the end, he will note that “if they [the Ortho- dox churches] did base their agreement on the archbishop’s Christology, it would be more dyophysite in outlook, but it would still have to be corrected to give more space to the reality of Christ’s humanity” (580). On the first page of his book, at the forefront of his thesis, Loon sets out Joseph Lebon’s so-called miaphysite interpretation of Cyril’s theology as the basis of his argument. He asserts, without any proof, that Lebon’s interpretation is the standard miaphysite interpretation of Cyril. He then proceeds Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 381

to highlight the scholarly disagreement over the interpretation of two key terms fÚsij and ÚpÒstasij. In the first chapter, Loon clarifies the different positions between the neo-Chalcedonians, who use the “whole of Cyril,” and the strict Chalcedonians, who use only the Second Letter to Nestorius and the letter to John of Antioch. He also notes a specific trend among neo-Chalcedonians of using fÚsij and ÚpÒstasij synonymously, because they “emphasize the unity of Christ (although ‘one nature’ was to be replaced by ‘one hypostasis’)” (37). He argues for a word study on a larger Cyrillian corpus, which he then undertakes. Chapter 2 discusses Cyril’s application of Aristotelian logic in his Thesaurus and Dialogues on the Trinity. Loon contends that, though Cyril was knowledgeable about Aristotelian philosophy, he did not master its subtleties. Chapter 3 deter- mines the usage and meaning of terms such as ous…a, fÚsij, prÒswpon, and ‡dioj within Cyril’s Trinitarian writings. The analysis of these terms primarily helps one understand Cyril’s philosophical framework, which in Loon’s opinion is “informed by the eclectic neo-Platonism of his time, and which he adopts to his theological needs where necessary” (170–71). The work in these two chapters sets the stage for the new terms Loon suggests. In chapter 4, Loon compares twentieth-century scholars’ interpretation of key Cyrillian terms noted above and concludes that scholars have not reached a consensus regarding these terms. In the process of deciphering the complex meaning of these theological terms, Loon replaces the Greek terminology with a set of new terms that he calls “SMALL- CAPITAL” terms. He does this in an attempt to explain the different interpretations with one unified vocabulary. Though it may be a worthwhile endeavour, Loon replaces one system of complex Greek terms with another system, equally complex and equally liable to misinterpretation, based primarily on his subjective interpretation of the terms. Only time will prove if such a project is helpful. Chapter 5 is devoted to the writings from the first year of the Nestorian controversy, Chapter 6 to Contra Nestorium, and Chapter 7 to Cyril’s writings from the year 430. In these three 382 Lois Farag

chapters, Loon’s approach is very systematic. He provides a summary of the texts under consideration, goes through a term analysis, and then provides his conclusion, which is always the same in these three chapters. Chapter 7 gives his overall conclusion, which by page 503 becomes very repetitive and obvious. Loon’s writing is clear and well organized. His word study is very commendable and impressive and is greatly enhanced by using the TLG and modern computer technology. He is very conversant with modern scholarship as he sifts through most of the major twentieth-century dyophysite scholarly work on Cyril of Alexandria and provides a very helpful analysis of trends and influences in the field of Cyrillian studies. He brings the attention of the North American reader to such European scholars as the Dutchman Piet Schoonenberg. All this is a very welcome addition to scholarship. Loon’s extensive study can be reviewed here only in one key aspect: his thesis that Cyril’s Christology is dyophysite. All scholars preferred for his analysis are dyophysite in their persuasion. Loon divides the scholars into two camps: Joseph Lebon, who argues that Cyril’s language is miaphysite, and those who argue that Cyril’s language is dyophysite. Thus, Loon starts with the unsubstantiated assumptions that Lebon is representative of all of the so-called miaphysite theologians and that all miaphysites agree on Lebon’s interpretation. He does not include a single non-dyophysite theologian in his study, though he is aware of V.C. Samuel, whom he mentions in passing on page 29. On the other hand, the dyophysite scholars are well represented in the argument; he studies them thoroughly, and he acknowledges their lack of consensus. Loon is very well versed in dyophysite scholarship but is totally unaware or purposely neglectful of scholarship of a different opinion in the debate. His thesis, then, is that if he disproves Lebon’s theory, he has proven that Cyril uses dyophysite language and is therefore dyophysite. His method of disproving Lebon’s theory is through word study. The author bases his argument on Lebon’s Le mono- physisme sèverién (1909). According to Loon, Lebon argues that Cyril’s miaphysite language is summarized in two main Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 383

premises. The first is that in “Cyril’s Christological language, ‘the words fÚsij, ÚpÒstasij and prÒswpon are always synony- mous” (16). The second is that Cyril conceded to the Antio- chenes after the Council of Ephesus “that one could speak of ‘two natures’, but ‘in contemplation only’” (16). Thus, Loon’s whole argument rests on proving that the three terms are not used synonymously – hence the necessity of the term analysis throughout his work – and that Cyril spoke of two natures not “in contemplation only” and therefore used dyophysite language. Loon’s conclusions in the section on On the Incarna- tion are very representative of his analysis of each of Cyril’s works in chapters 5, 6, and 7: “[T]he notion of ‘in contemplation only’ is absent. Further, fÚsij is never juxtaposed to ÚpÒstasij as a synonym, but it is placed side by side with ous…a a few times. …It may be concluded that there is no miaphysite language to be found in On the Incarnation” (284, Loon’s emphasis). If the title expresses Loon’s thesis, the subtitle “Contra Lebon” would have expressed more accurately the objective of this study. (On the other hand, it is not only Lebon who advocates using the three terms synonymously; most of the neo-Chalcedonians also do.) Some of Loon’s conclusions are rather problematic. For example, he writes that “Cyril does not have a problem, then, with the attribution of Christ’s deeds and properties to each of his natures, although he hardly speaks in this way” (405–406). If Cyril hardly speaks in this way, how can Loon conclude that Cyril attributes Christ’s deeds to different natures? Or, similarly, “Despite the fact that there is hardly any dyophysite language in Oratio ad dominas,… [it] is still an adequate picture of the christology [i.e. dyophysite] in this treatise” (452). Loon launched his study because he was very concerned that an agreement between the two Orthodox churches based on Cyril’s mia fÚsij formula might jeopardize the dialogue between the eastern and western churches. He does not give a reason why Cyril’s formula is such a threat to the western church. If, according to Loon, the Chalcedonian Orthodox churches accepted such an approach, why would not the West accept it? It might be a good idea for the western churches to 384 Lois Farag

follow their Chalcedonian brothers in the east if they are seriously seeking dialogue and unity. Dialogue on the basis of Cyril’s formula might be the best approach to unity. Loon’s work is successful in filling a lacuna in scholarship by his word study and helpful in its breadth by summarizing most of the recent scholarly work done on Cyril, but he fails to prove his bold title. His study never considers recent miaphysite scholarship. Actually, his argument is more convincing of Cyril’s mia fÚsij formula since he works to discredit Lebon’s argument and thus helps miaphysite theologians to base their argument on Cyril’s theological content rather than on an unrepresentative scholarly theory proposed almost a century ago.

Lois Farag Luther Seminary

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Zoe Knox, Russian Society and the Orthodox Church: Religion in Russia after Communism (Routledge, 2010), 257 pp.

This book examines the role of the Orthodox Church in the construction of civil society in post-communist Russia. The concept of civil society provides the theoretical basis of this study, and Knox considers the Orthodox Church in Russia exclusively from this point of view. Such an approach has its advantages. The historians, church historians, anthropologists, sociologists, theologians, and feminists (among others) who have studied Orthodox Christianity in the past twenty years have asked very different questions than Knox, and reached very different conclusions. It thus comes as a novelty to not consider religion in its many forms – practices, teachings, prayers, rites, representations, canonizations, liturgy – but only to the extent that it contributes to the institutionalization of ideological pluralism. Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 385

From this perspective, the Russian Orthodox Church falls short. Knox begins with and takes as her focus the 1997 legislation On Freedom of Conscience and Religious Associations. Like early Soviet policies, which assessed a person based on their political status well before the revolutions of 1917 on the grounds that it showed one’s true colors, this contentious law privileged religions registered with Soviet authorities fifteen years earlier in 1982. Thus, those religious bodies (like the Moscow Patriarchate) who had long acknowledged the legiti- macy of the Soviet regime could now enjoy the status of an organization (organizatsiia). They could establish and maintain buildings, conduct services in a range of public spaces (including hospitals and children’s homes), produce and distri- bute religious literature and objects, establish charitable and educational organizations, and invite foreigners to engage in professional activities. By contrast, any religious body which had not registered by the days of Leonid Brezhnev could only be a group (gruppa). It could perform services and it could educate its adherents. But it could not play the broad public role a religious organization could. This distinction, and this legislation, remain in force today. The drafting and revision processes of this law demonstrated the differences between conservatives, who sought legislative guarantees protecting and privileging the Moscow Patriarchate, and liberals, who sought guarantees of freedom of conscience for all denominations. To Knox, the difference is clear. The “official” Church – which she defines as the patriarch and metropolitans of the Russian Orthodox Church – not only does not contribute to civil society; by seeking to maintain its privileged position, it obstructs it. The only positive contribution made by Orthodox Christians to civil society comes from outside ecclesiastical structures – by lay oppositional activism, for example, or from such dissenting (and excommunicated) clerics as Gleb Yakunin. Knox puts it starkly: “It is the unofficial Church that constitutes Russia’s ‘usable past’ in terms of Orthodoxy’s contribution to civil society in post-Soviet Russia” (73). This is problematic for several reasons. 386 Nadieszda Kizenko

First, the line between “official” and “unofficial,” even in a religion as hierarchical as Orthodox Christianity, is rarely as absolute as Knox maintains. The last twenty years have produced a rich scholarly literature challenging the validity of this distinction. Dissidents and ruling bishops shared some of the same father-confessors; many people who went into underground church groups emerged and began attending re-opened churches when some chance at normal sacramental life reap- peared during and immediately after the Second World War. Moreover, many of the oppositionists were far more conservative than those bishops in positions of power. Such complica- tions find little reflection in this book. Second, by any definition, civil society surely includes such entities as an independent press, film, the internet, and other forms of electronic media. It is thus unclear why Knox inexplicably neglects the rich and varied publications, films, and other media produced by Orthodox Christians in Russia. How is one to categorize them? How do they fit in the civil society paradigm? The first remarkable thing, in a still-patriarchal structure, is that many women write, edit, and produce such religious journals, magazines, television programs, and films. The second is that these productions run articles on work-life balance, on legislation seeking to limit parents’ control over children, on battling alcoholism, and on unconventional life choices. In other words, these seem to be the supremely modern issues that engage civil society around the world. But the same publications specify that they are produced with the blessing of Bishop X or Y, and invariably feature articles on prominent hierarchs and clerics. Are they lay, or are they “official?” Or let us consider documentary films made by Natalia Rodomanova’s Obraz productions on topics including iconography, and the veneration of Saint John of Kronstadt. The management and crew are entirely secular – but they see their films as serving Orthodoxy. Or let us consider the rising numbers of nuns, who continue to play a leading role in charity and education – and who, along with monks, are not mentioned once in this book. Or let us note that when a leading periodical runs a feature on the rising number of Muslims in Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 387

Moscow, a venerable priest writes praising the new immigrants, saying that they offer favourable models of behaviour for the Orthodox, and condemning xenophobia. Are such phenomena “official” or “unofficial?” One thing they are clearly not is oppositional. But to focus only on dissent to the “official” Orthodox Church, rather than on more incremental change within it, is to neglect signs of plurality and tolerance that should be acknowledged by champions of civil society. In general, this book’s emphasis on Orthodox dissidents who emphasized the virtues of democracy and civil society takes one back to the first years of perestroika, when it was not yet clear which choices Russians in positions of power would make, and when Western observers could imagine a church- state relationship very different from the restricted one of the Soviet period. Knox captures very well the heady and turbulent atmosphere of the times, when figures as diverse as Zoya Khramal’nikova and Igor Shafarevich, as the Reverend Billy Graham and “white magic,” made front-page news. She has a keen eye for the politics around Russian Orthodox membership in the World Council of Churches. Her sympathy for those three decades, the 1970s through the 1990s, and her detail in covering them, are the book’s greatest strength. Anyone seeking information about that fascinating period would benefit greatly from this book. The historical section is weaker. The pre-revolutionary Holy Synod was not a council of laypersons (5), theological questions are not inherently elitist (29), the liturgical Slavonic used by the church now is not “Old” Church Slavonic, but one that has been regularly revised over the last five centuries, including the twentieth and the twenty-first (34); “dvoeverie” (the so-called combination of paganism and Christianity) does not adequately describe peasant religion (201–2); urban workers did not uniformly condemn the Church as an organ of the government (44); Ioann Sergiev (not Sergei) did not insti- gate pogroms, but condemned them (150); and Ioann Belliustin is hardly the most reliable source for the life of the pre-revolutionary parish clergy. All of that said, Knox has provided a valuable service. It does not hurt to be reminded that, for all the vibrancy and 388 Nadieszda Kizenko

diversity within the Orthodox Church in Russia, the leadership of the Moscow Patriarchate still does not brook challenges to its authority or to its Orthodoxy. A comparison with Ukraine is instructive. In Ukraine three different bodies headed by three different hierarchs call themselves the Ukrainian Orthodox Church. All own prime religious real estate. The Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate), for example, owns the Kiev Caves Lavra; the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Kiev Patriarchate) owns Saint Vladimir’s Cathedral; and the Ukrai- nian Autocephalous Orthodox Church owns Saint Andrew’s. By contrast, any hierarch or body in Russia seeking to call himself or itself Russian Orthodox who is not part of the Mos- cow Patriarchate gets shut down: the diocese of the independent hierarch with the strongest local following, Metropolitan Valentin of Suzdal (Russian Orthodox Autonomous Church), had all its churches seized by the local state authorities. Nor are these problems limited to the non-Moscow Patriarchate Orthodox. Jehovah’s Witnesses, exhibitors of art exhibits deemed blasphemous, and the Salvation Army, among others, have encountered obstacles ranging from fines to closings. One hears less about such matters than one did in the late 1990s or in the early 2000s, but they are still with us. In reading this one book, one sees how much has been gained and how much has been lost since the 1990s. The rabid right-wing in the Russian Orthodox Church has begun to fade; mercifully, The Protocols of the Elders of Zion can no longer be found in church bookstores. But the liberal, critical Ortho- dox voices explicitly seeking an open civil society have begun to fade as well. Instead, the Orthodox Church in Russia has reached a more diverse and more temperate equilibrium; its merger with the formerly critical Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia in 2007 was one such marker. This pluralistic Church has a far wider range and includes many more public voices than ever before, including those of women and of young people. Those voices from below and within may yet bring the Orthodox Church in Russia to a de facto and de jure embrace of civil society. But, in the absence of the kinds of guarantees Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 389

and stipulations sought by Zoe Knox and the older dissidents, they may not.

Nadieszda Kizenko State University of New York at Albany

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Richard Price and Mary Whitby, eds., Chalcedon in Context. Church Councils 400–700 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2009), vii + 205 pp.

This new volume on the Council of Chalcedon and related matters is a collection of eleven papers originally given at a one-day conference held at Corpus Christi College, Oxford in 2006. The conference celebrated the publication of three earlier volumes entitled The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon (Liverpool University Press, 2005). Those volumes made the acts of Chalcedon available in contemporary English for the first time in an easily accessible form and marked a major scholarly step forward in church history at an international level. The current essays under review acknowledge the existence and significance of the proceedings of early church councils in general and mark a new appreciation of the wider historical context, interpretation, and reception of the Council of Chalcedon in particular. Contributions come from academics in Oxford, London, Durham, Cambridge, York, and Warwick and should attract wide attention. Scholars, researchers and students of church history, patristics, and antiquity more broadly should sit up and take note. The collection constitutes the first book in a new series called “Translated Texts for Historians, Contexts 1,” a title which indicates the writers’ main concern and emphasis: historical context. All contributions are written by historians and together show that for too long the councils have been seen as isolated events divorced from their historical surroundings, 390 Stephen W. Need

often idealised and de-historicized even in the minds of scholars. Now, it should be much clearer that the councils took place within the cut and thrust of their specific historical settings. From this volume, readers will get a very realistic sense of the historical and human ambiguity surrounding the process of the development of the councils. Historical relativism must now be taken into account here as elsewhere when reconstructing and assessing data. Readers will also learn that sources for the councils are often incomplete and confusing. There is no “original” account of the Council of Chalcedon or of its acts: there are two later versions, one Greek and one Latin, and needless to say, there are differences between them. The authors of the essays bring out very clearly that in the process of handing down material there was a good deal of selection, reinterpretation, massaging of accounts, re-contex- tualisation, and even “propaganda and self-promotion” (43). Accounts were inevitably reshaped and reinterpreted in the light of later needs and interests: it was always important to produce an account that suited everybody. Even so, there is enough reliable information on Chalcedon for us to be con- fident about the basics of what happened; it is not all fiction and fabrication. The notion of tradition played an important part in early Christian thinking about the councils, and the proceedings from these gatherings soon took their place alongside scripture as authoritative. But the idea developed in a noticeably fluid fashion: additions to and subtractions from the data are both evident. So, for example, the Nicene Creed shed some of its text (against Arius) and gathered some (on the Holy Spirit) around the time of the Council of Constantinople. Tradition included the idea of continuity, illustrated by the practice of reading creeds from earlier councils and including them in the acts of later councils. Thus, the documents from Chalcedon include the creeds from Nicaea and Constantinople. In due course, Chalcedon itself became authoritative for other councils, for example the Quinisext Council of 692. In all this there was a gathering sense of the authority of the councils and of those who had taken part in them. Part of the story of the reception of Chalcedon, of course, is its rejection in the east, Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 391

and the differences of perception of this council in the centuries following it are brought out very clearly in this volume. Discussions of the Councils of Constantinople and Ephesus also feature. Another attractive aspect of the concentration on historical context in these papers is the vivid sense in some contributions of what the councils were actually like on the ground. An essay on acclamations in the ancient world sheds fascinating light on the practice of shouting out one’s opinion at public meetings. This was important in pre-individualist societies and was part of the procedure of voting. Acclamations are known from both religious and secular contexts in the ancient world and clearly played a key role at Chalcedon. The final essay, on “bishops behaving badly at Church councils,” shows just how boisterous that council was: “exceptionally noisy, even chao- tic” (180). Political antagonism and difference of opinion mingled with diverse levels of education and passionate engagement with the issues all around. The essays on these areas open important windows into the vibrant world of the early councils and contrast with often dry and abstract por- trayals in other works. One important dimension I did miss here is the theological: there is sparse sense that the fundamental theological issues discussed at Chalcedon or other councils are part of the historical context. To anyone unfamiliar with the material it would be difficult to find out from these papers why the councils were so theologically controversial or why they generated so much political upheaval. Why did “one nature” or “two natures” actually matter to anybody and what difference did it make? Contributors tend to see differences between individuals or parties in the ancient world as predominantly political. But questions of theological adequacy and appropriate language were wrapped up in the political and played a key role. This collection would certainly have benefited from an essay on the primary philosophical and theological concepts at work in the period. The separation of church history and “doctrine” has long been a problem in this area and is still evident here. A reading of the councils in their full historical contexts ought to have eliminated this. In addition, a contribution on methodo- 392 Stephen W. Need

logy, or the nature of church history writing as such, would have helped. This concern never seems far from the surface but is not addressed head-on. Overall, the message of this volume is that if the history of the early church councils is to be reconstructed properly and their proceedings fully understood, the historical and human dimensions must always be acknowledged. In one sense, it is remarkable that this should need saying. Why have the contexts of the early church councils not been fully appreciated before? The historical-critical method is hardly new. This aspect, however, has often been neglected in this discipline and the situation is now rectified here with clarity and authority. Although not introductory, some of the essays in this collection provide very useful overviews of their areas. Readers will not find explanations of technical terms (which would have helped) but the bibliographies of English, French and German secondary literature will stimulate plenty of further research for those who want it. In sum, this book provides a useful companion to The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon and is itself a treasure trove of scholarly information for anyone interested in the councils or in the early church generally.

Stephen W. Need St. George’s College, Jerusalem

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Norman Russell, Fellow Workers with God: Orthodox Thinking on Theosis (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2009), 189pp.

Norman Russell introduces his study with Saint Paul’s words concerning synergy: “We are God’s fellow workers” (synergoi, 1 Cor. 3:9). This is a bold move if he intends to inform Protestants enamoured of a new trend – the discovery of theosis in the Fathers, as nurtured by the Eastern Church. As a new convert (of Protestant background), I have been startled Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 393

when my Orthodox brothers and sisters refer to “achieving theosis” – a phrase that punctuates Russell’s writing. Just as often, however, they also speak with wonder concerning theosis as the gift of God. Orthodox thinking typically joins grace and human effort together in an unselfconscious manner. As with Paul, the two jostle together: “Not that I have already attained … but I press on in order that I may grasp that for which also I was grasped by Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:12). Such ease does not quite mark Russell’s presentation. This is not surprising because the author, a fair minded and percep- tive analyst of Eastern theology (who graciously adopts Ortho- dox habits such as the Septuagintal numbering of Psalms), finds his theological home in the West. Perhaps over against the contemporary West’s fast-food approach to spirituality, he emphasizes those traditions that put weight upon human effort. In defining theosis, he states that it is “initiated in this world through our life of ecclesial communion and moral striving even though this restoration depends upon “participation in Christ through the Holy Spirit” (21) and takes place “within the broad context of the divine economy.” To be sure, he often refers to grace in dealing with Sts. Cyril and Maximus, and when he delves into the thought of Christos Yannaras and Sergius Bulgakov. There is even a lovely appropriation of the Orthodox corrective to a common Western reification of grace: “Grace is not a ‘thing’ we receive. It is God of his own free will meeting us in ecstasy … making us complete persons” (159). Russell’s work, however, lacks something of the wide- eyed gratitude that accompanies many Orthodox expositions of theosis. That being said, the book is impressive. His introduction and first two chapters will be useful even to the novice, since they give a concise account of the foundations and history of the doctrine. Russell explains how theosis has become a house- hold word, through a resurgence of admiration for the theology of Saint Gregory Palamas and the wisdom of the Philokalia. Further, he demonstrates that although the term is not coined before Saint Gregory Nazianzus, inter-related ideas and vocabulary appear in Saint Irenaeus of Lyons and in the New Testament presentation of the divine economy. Put to rest is 394 Edith M. Humphrey

the suspicion that theosis is sheer Hellenisation, a foreign intrusion into Christianity: rather, it is anchored even in the tetelestai (“it is consummated”) of Jesus on the Cross (25). Russell demonstrates that in early Christianity both a realistic and an ethical (or imitative) approach to theosis “go hand in hand” (26). By the time we reach Saint Cyril of Alexandria in the fifth century, 2 Peter 1:4 becomes a defence over against the caricature of Nestorius, and theosis is presented in terms of a relationship with the Holy Trinity. The author goes on to trace the maturation of this teaching, detailing St. Maximus’s distinction between essence and energies, Palamas’s defence of the hesychasts, and the spread of that movement from Mount Athos, through Bulgaria, Romania, and Russia. Deification was revitalized in the twentieth century, though there is a diversity among Orthodox scholars that repeats the varied approaches of the past: Russell aims not to obscure these differences. The first chapter, then, indicates divergent nuances among both ancient and contemporary theologians. Especially salutary is Russell’s critique of modern (non-Orthodox) writers who have cherry-picked the concept of theosis “in isolation from Christian theology as … a program for developing the trans- cendent aspect of the self” (38). We also are treated to a weighty list of patristic “exchange” statements (“God became, so man could…”), from Irenaeus through Maximus. Russell’s aim is to defuse the arguments of those who have misunderstood theosis as a reduction of human nature, or as a confusion of the Creator with the creature. Important, too, is the emphasis upon deification as nurtured within the Eucharist, as a foretaste of the Kingdom. In the modern era, Russell outlines the distinguishing marks of Bulgakov, Lossky, Louth, Nellas, Zizioulas, and Behr, opining that focus of the first three is more philosophical (following Maximus) and the latter three more biblical (following Athanasius and Cyril). This representation of both the fathers and the later theologians is, I think, debatable. To say that Maximus differs radically from Athanasius and Cyril is reminiscent of the posited gulf between Paul’s letters and Ephesians: taking “the perspective of eternity” (46) is not a Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 395

departure from biblical theology, but a necessary move for its full appreciation. One need think only of Irenaeus, who dealt in detail with the Scriptures while also taking the long view, tracing Christ’s recapitulation for the sake of humanity. We find also in Maximus and Lossky careful attention to Scrip- ture; we stand amazed, too, at the philosophical acumen of Cyril and Metropolitan Zizioulas. Moreover, there are significant disagreements between those grouped together, e.g. Zizioulas and Behr. (Is theosis understood by way of the Eucharist and ecclesial reflection of the Trinity, or by participation in the cross through baptism?) These differences are not denied by Russell, but he seems not to grasp their substantive nature. Even if his typology will not hold, his appreciative description of each thinker is engaging. As a specialist in Scripture, I was especially pleased with the second chapter on the Biblical foundations of theosis, which treats the historic use of Psalm 81:6 (cf. John 10:33–36), various passages in John’s gospel, and 2 Corinthians and 2 Peter 1:4. (But where is 2 Corinthians 5:21?) Especially helpful is Russell’s reintroduction of typological readings of Scripture, with its concomitant result – reading the Bible is itself part of the process of deification because of Scripture’s anagogical potency. Subsequent chapters tease out “image and likeness,” transfiguration (and the centrality of Jesus’ Transfiguration), transcendence of self, personalism and ecstasy, participation and union with God, and (wonderfully!) the practical implications of theosis. Well chosen is his explication of energies and essence, by means of Yannaras’s analogy concerning recognizing an unknown work by Mozart (137). While appreciative of the diverging reserve of both Zizioulas and Stelios Ramfos concerning energies and essence, he argues that differing views can co-exist. In conclusion, he details Andrew Louth’s well considered distinction between revitalizing the Church’s memory and cultivating critical intelligence: not all may trace the speculative work of theologians, but theosis is the goal of the Church’s life, and all the faithful should have this path set before them. It is unfortunate, perhaps, that in parting he polemicizes: theosis is a “right” (173) that cannot be exclusive 396 Edith M. Humphrey

to the Orthodox. Nonetheless, he does not encourage that theosis be wrenched from its context. Instead, Christians from other traditions must acknowledge the fuller theological, spiritual and ecclesial dimensions of this mystery (174). And who knows where that might lead?

Edith M. Humphrey Pittsburgh Theological Seminary

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Stefanos Alexopoulos, The Presanctified Liturgy in the Byzan- tine Rite: A Comparative Analysis of Its Origins, Evolution, and Structural Components (Leuven: Peeters, 2009), xvi + 358 pp.

This volume will become the standard work on the Divine Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts (PRES) for years to come. Stefanos Alexopoulos, a priest of the Orthodox Church of Greece and a graduate of Notre Dame University’s renowned PhD program in liturgy, has provided us with a much needed analysis of the service’s origins and evolution. Not only is the book superbly researched, it is also well written. It combines the best of a dissertation (which is how it began) with the best of a historical novel. In the first chapter, “The Search for the Origins of the Presanctified,” Alexopoulos notes that while the first direct textual reference to PRES dates from c. AD 630, it was certainly being celebrated before then and most probably came into use as a result of the following factors: the Synod of Laodicea’s (AD 380) ban on full liturgies on weekdays of Lent; the likely desire to regulate and then eliminate weekday communion from the reserved sacrament at home; and the attachment of Holy Communion to a liturgy of the Word that was celebrated on fast days in certain parts of the Christian East. We also learn that in female communities, women dis- tributed Communion from the reserved sacrament. Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 397

In the next chapter, “The Presanctified in Context,” Alexopoulos indicates that while several different Fathers have been credited with the composition of PRES, the majority of manuscripts avoid any attribution. Thus it is impossible to associate definitively the name of a Father with any of the orations. (Associating one with PRES as a whole would, of course, be historically naïve in the extreme.) He then notes that initially PRES was not only celebrated on Wednesdays and Fridays of Lent, but could also be served on Wednesdays and Fridays throughout the year. This, of course, was in addition to its celebration on all weekdays of Lent. The present limitation to Wednesdays and Fridays, as opposed to all weekdays of Lent, derives from Sabaitic (Palestinian monastic) usage, which came to dominate Byzantine practice after the thirteenth century. In Byzantium, PRES was also celebrated at the coro- nation of emperors, weddings, and the appointment of civil servants. “The Presancified in the Non-Byzantine East and the West” forms chapter three and demonstrates the author’s skill with the comparative method. He analyzes evidence from the Syrian, Jerusalem, Nubian, and Roman traditions which all have both a cathedral and monastic form of PRES. (The author also notes: “there is textual evidence of a PRES in Armenia, but its use is uncertain. There is no evidence regarding Ethio- pia and the non-Roman West” [127]). Comparison with these traditions reveals that except for earlier Roman usage, all of the traditions reserved the consecrated bread alone. Chapter Four brings us to “The Vesperal Part of the Pre- sanctified,” which is where we also learn about the preparation of the gifts before the service. The non-specialist will find this chapter the most difficult not because of any lack of clarity on the author’s part but rather because it involves the history of the transition from Constantinopolitan-cathedral, to Studite, and then to Sabaitic monastic Vespers. It is the last of the three that forms the vesperal part of PRES today – another inheritance of the late-thirteenth-century Palestinian monastic take-over of the Byzantine liturgy of the hours. Thus, for example, prior to this period, instead of Psalm 103 it was Psalm 85 that opened the service; the gifts were prepared in 398 Peter Galadza

the skeuophylakion beforehand rather than during the kathisma; and, of course, there was no Phôs hilaron, as the latter is not part of pre-thirteenth-century Constantinopolitan cathedral usage. A lack of clarity is evident, however – at least according to my lights (no pun intended) – in the treatment of the “The light of Christ enlightens all” and its position in PRES. Alexopoulos is certainly right to suggest its connection to the Genesis/ Exodus series of readings inherited from Antioch, but he does not explain why this lucernarium rite should come after the first reading rather than before it? (There is also the scholarly opinion that its original position was after both readings, that is, after Proverbs, though it would seem easy enough to dismiss this opinion once the connection of the Phôs Christou to the Genesis/Exodus reading has been established.) I dwell on this question, first, because it is among the few places in the book where the author’s thinking lacks probity, and second, the question arises every time one celebrates the service and is compelled to proffer an explanation for the lucernarium’s position between two readings. Of course, symbolic meanings can easily be crafted, but it would be nice to have a firmer grasp of the history. There is no lack of clarity, however, in Alexopoulos’s treatment of the origins of the “second performance” of “Let my prayer rise like incense.” Contrary to earlier opinion that the farcing of several verses by Psalm 140:2 was the original Constantinopolitan cathedral form of the evening psalm, the author demonstrates that it was originally a prokeimenon, which then became part of PRES’s ordinary. Early rubrics actually have the clergy seated during its chanting. Un- beknownst to Alexopoulos (I shall take up comparisons with Slavic usage below) this helps explain what is obviously a transitional prescription in the seventeenth-century Mohyla (Moghila) editions. There, the presider is instructed to stand before the holy table without censing. Slavic liturgists who have been perplexed for generations by this older Kievan rubric finally have their answer. Chapter Five, “The Communion Part of Presanctified” is straightforward in its presentation of the evidence. We are also Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 399

treated to a cogent proposal regarding the history of the litany preceding the “Our Father,” which has remained confused. The evidence reveals an originally unadorned transfer of gifts eventually solemnized with rites and chants, followed by a litany “made up of two elements: the dismissal litany of Vespers and the Ur-text of the precommunion litany. When communion was appended to Vespers, it attracted the precommunion litany, which was incorporated into the dismissal litany” (283). Our current prayer of inclination (after the “Our Father”) is a re-worked Vespers prayer to which reference to communion has been added. As with the full liturgy, the Sancta sanctis was the original call to communion followed by the communion chant, which at one time may have been Psalm 148:1. The opisthambonos prayer was probably added in the eighth century and today’s second dismissal derives from monastic influence. Alexopoulos nicely summarizes the history of the reserva- tion of the consecrated Lamb. The Great Church did not anoint or sprinkle the consecrated bread with the wine. As for how the cup was consecrated, the simple answer is “through contact.” This is hardly a “mediaeval deviation,” but a practice known already in late antiquity. Thus, the East-Slavic view of the chalice as unconsecrated even after the commingling is scholastic casuistry pure and simple. A question that Alexopoulos does not treat, however, is that of where one is to obtain the antidoron mentioned in the euchologies. Some communities today do not, in fact, distri- bute antidoron at PRES for the simple reason that by Friday, for example, the “leftovers” from Sunday are as hard as a rock. Are there communities where people simply bring freshly baked bread specifically for use as antidoron? The book concludes with five very helpful appendices. Moving now to several proposals for improvement: 1) For the study to be an analysis of PRES in the Byzan- tine Rite – as the title states – rather than only the Greek recension of the Byzantine Rite with occasional forays into Slavic usage, the author will have to research non-Greek usage more thoroughly. If he had done so, he would have noticed, for example, that the 400 Peter Galadza

use of an alternate to the perisse Plêrôthêtô, that is, the chant “We thank you, Christ our God” (268) is not just an Italo-Greek particularity, but a staple of certain Slavic recensions, which mandate its use to the present day. The latter have also preserved an older second in- vitation to communion (simply “Approach”) without the use of Psalm 117:26a as the response; and they have not included the later “Save Your people, O God, and bless Your inheritance.” One can only imagine how many other fascinating variants remain extant in Arabic, Romanian and Georgian usage – to name just a few other non-Greek traditions. (Incidentally, in certain contexts, the term “East-Slavic” is more correct than “Russian” [143].) 2) Alexopoulos is probably too quick to dismiss the long established argument that the desire for communion fostered the development of PRES. Of course, as he points out, the period of PRES’s rise coincides with a decline in frequent communion – out of fear for un- worthy reception. But I would argue that it was the latter that also generated an association between fasting and Eucharist. To the present day, in conservative Orthodox circles, it is the fast periods that serve as requisite preparation for reception, even though, of course, the assembly as a whole will not be receiving Communion. In other words, in the climate of “eucharistic fear,” if one is going to receive the sacrament, “it had better be in conjunction with ascetical effort.” Thus, according to this logic, what better time for more frequent Communion than during Lent? 3) Consistency in including translations of formulae would be desirable. Frequently, Greek prayer texts are rendered into English, but sometimes they are not – and some of the texts are absolute gems that deserve translation. 4) The outlines of manuscript evidence would be far more serviceable if presented as itemized lists rather than bloc texts (e.g., pp. 191, 200–201, 236–238, 272– 273). Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 401

5) A number of the English translations of the Greek are either erroneous or infelicitous. Among the former: p.137 contains three mistranslations of words in the Great Litany; the text on p.151 should read “For Your honoured name is sanctified (not “holy” name); p.183 – Ps. 140 does not read “Hear me, our Lord; and the translation on p.277 should render the optative “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” 6) The works of Lingas, Woolfenden, and Lutzka are missing from the bibliography, and the editor of Coislin 213 is Duncan, not “Dunkan.”

None of this, however, detracts from the excellence of Alexopoulos’s work. In fact, I have drawn attention to some of these flaws only because I am convinced that his book will become a classic – regularly re-issued, and thus amenable to improvement.

Peter Galadza Sheptytsky Institute

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Jaroslav Z. Skira and Michael S. Attridge, eds., In God’s Hands: Essays on the Church and Ecumenism in Honour of Michael A. Fahey, S.J. (Leuven: Leuven UP / Peeters, 2006), xvii + 314 pp.

The authors of this collection – former colleagues and students – along with others in the North American theological community recognize Fahey as having made a substantial contribution to theological education and scholarship not only in his own writings, which are evident in the extensive bibliography and in the curriculum vitae included here, but in his service to students, colleagues, and church leaders. He has mentored many students in both American and Canadian theological schools, supported the scholarly activities of 402 Catherine E. Clifford

colleagues through his leadership in a number of learned societies – including a term as president of the Catholic Theological Society of America – and worked on a number of theological journals, including Theological Studies, of which he was editor-in-chief from 1996 to 2006. The depth and breadth of the papers in this volume are a fitting homage to an esteemed scholar and keen observer of the fields of ecclesiology and ecumenism. Reflecting many of Fahey’s own interests, they adopt a variety of approaches, including those of biblical, patristic, liturgical and historical studies, and take account of the perspectives of both East and West. John F. O’Grady’s overview of the diverse forms of ministry reflected in the New Testament raises the question of how to inspire a greater willingness on the part of the separated churches to recognize one another’s ministries in their rich diversity. Joanne McWilliam explores Augustine’s use of figurative, often feminine and mothering language to speak of the Church’s role in engendering the life of faith. Robert Taft explores the use of hagiographic texts to illuminate the con- trasting practices of the monastic and cathedral liturgies of the hours in the early Church. A series of essays provides an important window into a number of developments in twentieth-century theology. Ellen Leonard revisits George Tyrell’s The Church and the Future, a work that has languished for the past century in the shadow of the Modernist crisis, but which foreshadowed many of the significant developments of contemporary ecclesiology. Thomas O’Meara presents a biographical sketch of a lesser known German Jesuit, Constantin Noppel, whose ecclesiology ac- corded a significant place to the co-responsibility of the laity. Francis Schüssler Fiorenza points to the need to develop a fuller appreciation of the “cosmopolitan” character of Karl Rahner’s vision, and argues convincingly that Rahner’s critics focus too exclusively on the transcendental character of his work and “overlook the degree to which Rahner understands transcendence to be historically and symbolically mediated” (116). Myroslav Tataryn explores a number of recently available autobiographical writings by Sergei Bulgakov from the period of 1918–22, following the Bolshevik revolution. These Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 403

provide important new insights into the formation of Bulga- kov’s ecumenical vision and his critical perspectives on both Russian Orthodoxy and Catholicism. Patrick Collins explores Thomas Merton’s insights into the exercise of authority in the Church. Jaroslav Skira helpfully surveys of the work of Yves Congar and John Zizioulas with particular attention to their pneumatological and eschatological views of the Church. The remaining essays explore topics of significant contemporary interest. In a well documented study, Mary Schaeffer presents a survey of the use of the terms “in persona Christi” and asks whether recent usage favours an overly exclusive notion of Christ’s presence in the presiding minister, to the detriment of a theology which recognizes the equally vital presence of Christ in the gathered assembly. Bradford Hinze reflects on the themes of synodality and ecumenicity, illustrating how the process of ecumenical dialogue itself contributes to a dynamic of synodality among the churches and contributes to the ecumenical character of each one. At the same time, in their own practice of synodality, the churches are discovering themselves – at times unwittingly – as increasingly accountable to their ecumenical partners. Peter De Mey discusses the Charta Ecumenica, signed in 2001, by the Council of European Churches and the Council of European Bishops’ Conferences to express their commitment to collaboration and the search for visible unity. The significant contribution of the North American Orthodox-Catholic Consultation, a dialogue in which Fahey served as executive secretary for many years, is briefly documented by Thomas Fitzgerald. Lastly, Francis Sullivan asks, “Do the sins of its members affect the holiness of the church?” This is a question whose significance is perhaps increasing today as disturbing tales of abuse and corrup- tion continue to come to light. I hope this simple survey of the contents of this collection makes it clear that the reader will not be disappointed. The risks of assembling a work of this kind include the chance of producing a disparate compilation of unoriginal or unrelated works of uncertain quality. However, this is not the case here. Skira and Attridge have put together a significant volume, the calibre of which is a fitting tribute to its honouree. Some 404 Catherine E. Clifford

readers may be disappointed that the editors have not included a more fully developed biography of Michael Fahey to assist us in developing a better appreciation of the significant influences on the life and writings of one of North America’s most important ecclesiologists. I would highly recommend this volume to readers interested in contemporary issues in ecclesiology and ecumenism.

Catherine E. Clifford Saint Paul University, Ottawa

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Lucian N. Leustean, ed. Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91 (London and New York: Routledge, 2010), xvii + 363 pp.

As early as 1928 Soviet Commissar of Enlightenment Anatoly Lunacharsky noted that “religion is like a nail: the harder you hit it the deeper it goes in.” His disparagement could have served as an epigraph for this collection of twenty essays devoted to Eastern Orthodoxy during the Cold War. The efforts of communist regimes to inculcate godlessness and construct socialism and the persistence of spirituality and nationalism comprise the central themes. Employing fresh methodologies and based on archival research in many languages, the volume illuminates the complex affairs within the Orthodox commonwealth on both sides of the Iron Curtain. Orthodoxy constituted a prime element of contention in the ideological rift between East and West. Communist regimes at different times and places extended their influence with varying success in both traditionally Orthodox lands and the diaspora via the church. Whereas the Orthodox Churches of Russia, Albania, Bulgaria, and Serbia were subjected to mass persecution, the Romanian Orthodox Church seems to have benefitted from communist rule, Polish Orthodoxy flourished, and the Macedonian Orthodox Church was founded. Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 405

Beyond the Iron Curtain, some churches proliferated while the Churches of Greece and Cyprus became embroiled in international conflict as the Ecumenical Patriarchate endured the challenges of the modern world. The vicissitudes of religious life during Soviet times is the focus of Nicolas Lupinin’s chapter on the Russian Orthodox Church. The leniency inaugurated by Stalin in 1943 was followed by Khrushchev’s rekindling of ideology and renewed assault against religion, resulting in the closure and/or physical destruction of 10–15,000 churches. The Church responded with increasing subservience in exchange for a salutary existence and occasional concessions. The religious samizdat that proliferated under Brezhnev became politically irrelevant when Gorbachev recognized religious rights at all levels. By 1991, the Russian Church reemerged after nearly seventy years of unprecedented persecution. Lucian Leustean’s chapter on Romania demonstrates that Bucharest’s persecution of Greek Catholics, Roman Catholics, and foreigners facilitated collaboration with the Orthodox Church. Both party and parish profited from the open praise of national saints, the veneration of relics, grandiose public celebrations, and religious publications. Under Ceaucescu the state took advantage of the Church’s international religious contacts to cultivate political and economic relations with the West. The Securitate, one of the harshest security services in the Eastern bloc, actually collaborated with the Church hierarchy at home and abroad. The experience of the Serbian Orthodox Church, explored by Klaus Buchenau, provides contrast. The attempt to trans- form people into communist Yugoslavs eroded any common ground between church and state based on nationalism. The regime exerted political and financial pressure to persuade the ecclesiastical leadership to transmit communist values to the population. Patriarch German (1958–90) proved to be a sophisticated and pragmatic manager who steered a course between political fidelity and ecclesiastical interests. The federalization of Yugoslavia in the 1970s aroused national- religious movements in Macedonia, Croatia, and Albania. Sub- 406 Lucien J. Frary

sequently, the Serbian Church’s support of traumatic Serb nationalism helped pave the way for warfare in the 1990s. While retaining its atheistic zeal, the communist regime in Sofia used the Bulgarian Orthodox Church as a tool in foreign policy and ethno-national consolidation. Daniela Kalkandjieva illustrates how the social value of the church as the guardian of national consciousness served the state’s domestic needs. Interference in religious affairs was extreme. Diaspora communities connect the cases of Georgia, Armenia, and Ukraine. The almost complete lack of a diaspora intensified the isolation of the Georgian Church, while a vibrant community abroad sustained the spiritual fortitude of the Armenian Apostolic Church in the Soviet Union. Although in Ukraine the Ukrainian Autocephalous Church ceased to exist in 1944, the diaspora nourished autocephalous aspirations, especially in North America. In all three countries Soviet rule produced an interesting dialectic that undermined national and cultural identity but intermingled communist holidays and rituals with folk and religious traditions. Soviet power could be brutal, and the Khrushchevite period stands out for its attacks on churches, monasteries, relics, and religion. The KGB infil- trated the ecclesiastical hierarchy and criminalized church activity (a topic for further archival inquiry). Stagnation ensued, although the strong link between national values and religion emerged as a driving force for independence in the 1990s. During the Cold War three patriarchs, Maximos V (1946– 48), Athenagoras (1948–72), and Dimitrios (1972–91) preserved the supra-national attitude and unwavering devotion to the canons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The collapse of the Ottoman Empire forced the Church of Constantinople to re- define itself as a global and regional authority. Social involvement, philanthropy, and enhanced inter-Christian and inter- Orthodox contacts constituted the patriarchate’s greatest achievements. Power struggles and conflicts with the secular world abounded, yet the senior Orthodox Church retained its Christian ecumenicity. Chapters on smaller national Orthodox Churches in Poland, Czechoslovakia, Albania, Macedonia, Finland, and Ethiopia provide comparative perspectives and fascinating Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 407

details for non-specialists. A political method employed by Moscow was to infiltrate some of these smaller and splinter churches by bringing them under Russian jurisdiction. For many youthful clergy, working with Moscow promised advan- cement and authority. As persecution ebbed and flowed, a steady public ministry endured until the collapse of communism. Supplementing Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twentieth Century edited by Pedro Ramet, each chapter in the Leustean volume concludes with research guides and statistical sections. Eastern Christian churches in Belarus, Hungary, Egypt, Australia, China, Japan, India, and elsewhere are treated in synthetic chapters by the editor. A unique attempt at global history of Eastern Christianity, the book reveals how Orthodoxy survived an unparalleled attempt at annihilation due to the perseverance of believers, the failure of antireligious campaigns, and pragmatic collaboration with the unbelieving leadership. This compendium sheds fitful beams of light on a thoroughly neglected aspect of Cold War history.

Lucien J. Frary Rider University

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Vlad Naumescu, Modes of Religiosity in Eastern Christianity: Religious Processes and Social Change in Ukraine (Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2008), 255 pp.

The opportunity to read an analysis of religious developments in Ukraine over the past twenty years from a social- scientific perspective is indeed inviting. The study of Ukraine’s religious life from the perspective of religious processes and social transformation is woefully lacking. Thus, this reviewer eagerly approached Naumescu’s volume, which is 408 Myroslaw Tataryn

based on field work for his doctoral dissertation conducted in Sykhiv, Schirets, and Kolodiivka (Western Ukraine) in 2003– 04. The professed purpose of this study is two-fold: “to in- vestigate the processes that led to the so-called revival, which accounted for the present religious situation and to explore current religious dynamics and patterns of religious expression” (32). Naumescu’s training as a social anthropologist ostensibly positions him well for achieving his aims. Naumescu’s work is well organized. Initially he develops his notion of a “Ukrainian Orthodox Imaginary” which refers to the frame of reference historically developed in Ukraine around religiosity. Naumescu observes the ambiguous nature of the border between Ukrainian Orthodoxy and Ukrainian (Greek) Catholicism. The resultant “pluralism” Naumescu identifies as a phenomenon of “postsocialist religious revival” (54) although some of its characteristics are seen as having “their roots in the history of Orthodoxy in Galicia prior to Soviet times” (55). Naumescu offers the particularly intriguing insight that “western Ukraine has a long tradition of deep religiosity combined with weak commitment to religious institutions” (61). He suggests that this depth of religiosity is due to “their sense of belonging to a common tradition, an imagined community of practice that encompassed recently built differences” (61). The transformation of a previous village setting into a more complex Soviet satellite town supporting the rapid in- dustrialization of Lviv is the backdrop for the study of Sykhiv. Here the local Orthodox parish, which was allowed to exist in the Soviet period, becomes an image of the diversification of religiosity experienced in Ukraine post-1989. The fluidity of confessional identities, the interplay of ethnic and religious identities, and the rise of Protestant communities are all noted. Naumescu’s reflections upon religious life in Shchirets shift the focus slightly to the diversity and fluidity of identities in the Ukrainian Catholic Church. In particular the author pro- files the tensions created by diverse understandings of a common religious tradition. This question of, at times, conflicting views of the common tradition is further demonstrated in two different communities. Firstly Naumescu refers to the “tradi- Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 409

tionalist” followers of Fr. Vasyl Kovpak, who himself was a follower of the charismatic underground figure, Fr. Antonii Bihun, OSBM. This group has associated itself with the schismatic “Lefebvrist” movement and so finds itself outside the Catholic Church. The second group is the monastic community which developed in Kolodiivka and has as its charismatic leader, Fr. Hryhoryi Planchak. The latter community is one which sees itself following two complementary impulses: the work of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky to revive Eastern monasticism in Ukraine with the establishment of the Studite communities, and the direction of Vatican II to revive an authentic Eastern spirituality in the Ukrainian Church. Naumescu’s unfortunate title to the chapter discussing the second community (“A Monastic Splinter Group”) suggests a greater peripheralization of this community’s place in the “religious imaginary” than is accurate or helpful. Naumescu’s final section considers the apparent increase in attention paid to apparitions in the contemporary period. He regards the attention paid to apparitions as “a message of revolt against modernity and secularization” (224). Yet unfortunately he does little to prove that this is in fact a novel occurrence of the post-Soviet period or a manifestation of pre- 1945 religiosity. Naumescu’s research in this volume into a critical yet neglected territory does not fulfill its promise. Notwithstanding interesting observations of a number of locales demonstrating various aspects of religious life in Ukraine today, the text labours under the weight of observation rather than reflection and systematic analysis. Naumescu reports more than he analyzes and his reports are too often hampered by historic inac- curacies or a lack of awareness of theological or ecclesiological nuances. His “outsider’s” eye misinterprets the religious traditions he encounters. Naumescu fails to grasp the in- tricacies of language and identity at play in the world of Ukrainian (or Eastern) Christianity. On page 46 he refers to the historic co-existent of “two rites, Catholic and Byzantine”! On page 56 he erroneously refers to the pre-1990 Orthodox Church in Ukraine as the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – suggesting a real autonomy which was far from the reality. The 410 Myroslaw Tataryn

Church at that point was the Russian Orthodox Church which granted autonomy to the Kyivan Exarchate in 1990. Naumes- cu’s account of the events at the Church of the Transfiguration in Lviv in October of 1989 does not at all mention the role of Fr. Y. Chukhni, but rather makes it seem (as some press accounts inaccurately suggested) as if a Catholic mob seized the Church by force (79). He further mistakenly refers to Slipyi’s successor as primate of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church as the “archbishop of Philadelphia” (109). However, Arch- bishop Lubachivsky was the former archbishop and at the time of Slipyi’s death he was in fact the co-adjutor of Lviv. These are only a few examples of the ubiquitous errors of fact found throughout the work. More fundamentally Naumescu’s work is hampered by two perspectival issues. Firstly, his historic understanding is romanticized. Although the experiences of Byzantium and the medieval Kyivan-Rus’ state were not identical, it is unrealistic to suggest that “the Kyivan-Rus state maintained separation between political and ecclesiastical authority, which left the church free to follow its Christian ideals independent of worldly matters” (43–44). This romantic view of the past also puts the author at a disadvantage in understanding the rhetoric of contemporary, particularly Catholic, communities relative to their “tradition.” When discussing the followers of Kovpak, Naumescu suggests, uncritically, that they are simply yearning for the experience of the underground church which has become a sort of normative “tradition” in their minds. A similar idealization of that period is reflected in his argument that the “mission of the underground church was to preserve the tradition of the Greek Catholic Church” (118) – a statement which does not reflect the complexity and diversity of the pre- 1946 reality of that church. This lack of nuance leads Naumescu to make the absurd assertion that the “UGCC hierarchy … made use of the same idea of ‘true tradition’, which it regarded as completely different from the Catholic tradition” (118–19). Thus Naumescu explicitly states here what is implicit in much of his work: he identifies “Catholic” with the Latin tradition; he simply does not appreciate the complexity of the reality of the Ukrainian Greco-Catholic Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 411

experience. He has misread the complexity of the “religious imaginary” of that community. Similarly he oversimplifies the Orthodox reality, believing that “Orthodox tradition … is liberated from worldly authority” (18). As a result Naumescu’s volume does not help us understand how Christianity has developed from the pre- Soviet realities through the Soviet period into this new, transitional environment. Nor does the volume provide any clear insight into how the religious dynamics at play are affecting social change. Naumescu’s volume therefore is recommended only for use with caution by readers well versed in Ukrainian realities: not for the uninitiated. If one has a grasp of the religious scene in Ukraine one can handle the excess of errors and possibly glean insight from his observations of local realities. If one is looking for an accurate introduction into religiosity in Ukraine from a social scientific perspective, you have to wait a bit longer.

Myroslaw Tataryn St. Jerome’s University, Waterloo

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Irfan A. Omar, ed. A Muslim View of Christianity: Essays on Dialogue by Mahmoud Ayoub (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2007), 245 pp.

In all likelihood the interreligious encounter that will prove most determinative of our global future is that between Christianity and Islam. For this reason any substantial work on Christian-Muslim relations deserves careful attention from academic religionists and theologians. What makes this particular collection of essays especially noteworthy to readers of this journal is the attention it gives to the potential role of Eastern Christianity in the developing dialogue between the world’s two largest religious traditions. 412 Theodore Pulcini

The essays collected in this volume were all written by Mahmoud Ayoub, one of the foremost names in Christian- Muslim relations not only because of his remarkable erudition in the field but also because of his openness of intellect and generosity of spirit. He knows what he is talking about, and he cares about how his knowledge can foster constructive and productive relations between his own religious tradition, which he clearly loves, and Christianity, which he clearly respects. These essays, therefore, are revelatory of both the proper “mind” and “heart” of Christian-Muslim dialogue. Ayoub is well placed to instruct us on both counts. Born into a Shiite family in southern Lebanon in 1935, he studied at the American University of Beirut, the University of Pennsyl- vania, and Harvard. From 1988 to 2008 he was professor of Islamic Studies at Temple University and is now teaching Christian-Muslim relations at Hartford Seminary. During his academic career, he has also taught at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College in Pennsylvania and served as visiting professor at the Balamand Orthodox Theological Seminary in Lebanon, the Antiochian (Greek) Orthodox Patriarchate’s premier center of graduate study, where he initiated the MA program in Christian-Muslim relations and comparative religions. His career thus reflects academic depth and ecumenical breadth. With regard to the latter, his fundamental conviction is that “the Qur’an categorically condemns the arrogant boas- ting by any of the followers of the three monotheistic religions of the superiority of their faith over that of either of the two other communities” (3). Once such exclusivistic arrogance has been precluded, reciprocal respect becomes not just an option but a religious duty – a duty to which Ayoub clearly commits himself. The sixteen essays are divided among the four parts of the book. Part I, “The Need for Dialogue: Setting the Context,” examines the necessity of, and rationale for, dialogue between Christians and Muslims. In these essays Ayoub lays out his twin convictions that, on the one hand, a genuinely inclusive, other-affirming worldview is necessary among both religious scholars and practitioners in the contemporary world and that, on the other hand, individuals should hold fast to their own Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 413

religious loyalties. Thus, Ayoub clearly shows himself to be a pluralist but not a relativist. He sees this stance not as a reluctant concession but as reflective of “God’s will that we be different” (15). Nevertheless, he recognizes that Islam’s attitude toward other religions has oscillated between accommodation and confrontation, between amity and antagonism, as indicated in the Qur’an, the Hadith literature, and the writings of scholars throughout Islamic history. Especially challenging have been the relations between Islam and Christianity. Arguing strongly that Islamic exclusivism is not in accord with the spirit of the Qur’an, he maintains that the foundational texts of Islam stress the need for “mutual and creative acceptance that would far transcend mere tolerance” (39). He recognizes that both Christians and Muslims have more often than not fallen short of this ideal because of various theological stances (most notably supersessionism and finality) as well as political, military, social, economic, religious, and cultural movements. He underscores the Muslim world’s conviction that the West is continuing the Crusades, still attempting to fragment the ummah and undercut its religious foundations. This attitude, so common in the Islamic heartland, needs to be transcended, Ayoub asserts, but this can happen only in a context where Muslims and non-Muslims enjoy legal, political, and economic equality. He thus makes the intriguing claim that true dialogue “cannot be achieved between the rich and technologically advanced West and the Muslims of the so- called Third World” but “must begin in Europe and North America where Muslims and Christians share the factory workbench, the school, community center, and even the ceme- tery” (58). The dialogues of belief and faith are most likely to be successful in those places where the interlocutors share in a “dialogue of life” (68) as equal partners, speaking for themselves and to each other with genuine fairness and objectivity. The significance of this last assertion, I would argue, cannot be over-emphasized. Christian-Muslim dialogue cannot be understood in an idealized, ahistorical, or de-contextualized manner. That is, neither of the two dialogue partners, neither Christianity nor Islam, can be understood as a monolith. Rather, it must be admitted that there will always be several 414 Theodore Pulcini

(perhaps many!) “Christianities” and “Islams” that will inter- act, depending on time and place. Similarly, in certain places and under certain socio-cultural conditions, productive dialogue may be overwhelmingly difficult, if not impossible; in other contexts, it may prove quite fruitful. The North Ameri- can context (even more than the Western European, I would argue) may prove to be one of the most promising settings for Christian-Muslim encounter. Perhaps it is in the American context that new models for positive interaction may be generated. This certainly expresses Ayoub’s conviction and hope. In Part I, Ayoub also introduces another fact that is often completely ignored by those involved in Christian-Muslim dialogue, namely, that the Christianity encountered by Muham- mad and early Muslims was specifically Eastern Christianity (64). He develops this crucial insight more fully in the essays included in Part II, “Critical Juridical and Theological Issues: A Comparative Perspective.” For example, he considers the phenomenon of holiness as a possible element of common ground between Christianity and Islam. He laments that with the Reformation, Christian holiness became reduced to “biblicism” or “shallow liberalism” (76), losing the essence of sanctification as understood in Eastern Christianity. “It is my conviction,” Ayoub states, “that Christianity began to lose its power of sanctification as it lost its Eastern home and character. It was in this Eastern piety and spiritual dynamism of the holy desert fathers that Islam was born and nourished. It was not dogma but holiness … which spoke to the needs of men and women” (77). It was this Eastern Christian notion of holiness that helped to shape the Muslim view of righteousness and even the Islamic view of martyrdom as a struggle based on applied, “practical” piety (88). In the final two essays of Part II, Ayoub turns to two problematic issues dividing Christians and Muslims – one theological (redemption) and one socio-political (the notion of dhimmah). He rehearses the usual Muslim arguments against the Christian idea of redemption – i.e., that it is fundamentally unjust that Christ should (or even could) atone (through his self-sacrifice on the cross or his victory over death in the Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 415

resurrection) for transgressions committed by others. Ayoub suggests, however, that Muslims could accept Christ’s re- demptive role according to another model: the role of inter- cessor. This model is inherent in Islam, not only in the role of Husayn in Shiism but even more generally in the role the Mahdi is anticipated to play in redeeming believers on the Day of Judgment. The original understanding of the Mahdi, Ayoub argues, was not that espoused by later Sunnis (that he would be born of the Prophet’s descendents) or by later Shiites (that he would appear at the end of time) but rather that Jesus would return as the Mahdi (95; cf. Qur’an 43:61). Ayoub laments the loss of this original understanding of the Mahdi, which he sees as constituting an important link between Christian and Mus- lim understandings of Jesus as “redeemer.” In the essay “Dhimmah in the Qur’an and Hadith” (98– 106), Ayoub similarly laments the loss of the original meaning of dhimmah. If ever there has been a cause of resentment of Christians toward Muslims, it is the implementation of dhimmi law, which often has relegated Christians to inferior or even persecuted status in Islamic society. This “legal reification” of the dhimmah as a socio-political arrangement, Ayoub argues, is not intrinsic to its meaning. Originally designating a prin- ciple of honour, decency, justice, and protection, the notion of dhimmah predates Islam; in fact, it was sacred in pre-Islamic Arab society. However, the bond of dhimmah in practice often became a prerogative of the rich and powerful, to the exclusion of others. What Islam did, Ayoub argues, was to extend the privilege of dhimmah to all Muslims – and then to extend it even further to include Christians and Jews. Dhimmah operative in relations among human beings was seen as a reflection (even if imperfect) of dhimmah between God and humanity. It was thus originally meant to convey respect, not humiliation or persecution. It is that intrinsically Islamic conception of dhimmah, beyond mere legalities, Ayoub argues, which must be reclaimed. The most theologically substantial and challenging section of this collection is Part III, “Christological Issues: Muslim Perspectives,” in which Ayoub provides some creative – even daring – suggestions for how Muslims can re-cast their under- 416 Theodore Pulcini

standing of Christ. These essays will undoubtedly prove to be the most fascinating and frustrating for the reader – fascinating because in them Ayoub confronts head-on the most contentious theological issues dividing Christianity and Islam, frustrating because these issues cannot possibly be resolved, even by someone of Ayoub’s immense knowledge and good will. Nevertheless, Ayoub demonstrates that many voices have joined in the debate over the years, and still there remains a plurality of positions and significant areas of ambiguity that provide opportunity for new and creative approaches. For example, one often hears that in Islam Jesus is considered just another prophet. Ayoub adduces evidence that this is simply not the case. Rather, Jesus is considered an ayah, i.e., a miracle of God, the very Word (Logos) of God; the same Gabriel who brought the word of God (the Qur’an) to Muhammad brought the Word of God (Christ) to Mary (112– 113). Likewise, one often hears that Islam categorically rejects the idea of Christ as the “son of God.” Again, on this point, Ayoub, offers a nuancing distinction. To be sure, Muslims reject that God is the father of Christ in the sense of physical generation (as implied by one Arabic word for “son,” walad), but Muslims can affirm that Christ is the son of God in the sense that Jesus is beloved of, or especially favoured by, God (as implied by another Arabic for “son,” ibn) (118–122). The Muslim repudiation of the doctrine of Christ thus centers not on the Christian claim of Christ’s “sonship” but of his divinity, a claim which Muslims see as a form of theological “extre- mism.” Despite this fundamental difference, there are, according to Ayoub, “rich and varied images of Christ in Islamic piety” (134), especially among the Shiites. He provides two of these depictions to indicate that even while denying Christ’s divinity, Muslims can see in Christ an example of “tajalli, the manifestation of divine beauty and majesty in and through man” (152). Furthermore, it is often assumed that all Muslims reject the idea of Jesus’ crucifixion, death, and resurrection. In a remarkable survey of various texts, Ayoub establishes that even regarding these crucial matters there exist differing opinions Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies 417

among Muslim scholars. He shows that some of these scholars dissent from the “substitutionist” explanation, i.e., that someone else (Judas?) was crucified in place of Jesus, a stance that is often assumed to have universal, uncontested sway among Muslims. In a similar vein, Ayoub presents Muslim sources that affirm that Jesus did indeed die – and that he was even dead for three days before he rose and ascended. Ayoub encourages scholars looking for new approaches to these contentious issues to consider Sufi and Shiite writings, which are often ignored in such discussions. Disappointingly, Ayoub for some reason feels obliged to make mention of the Gospel of Barnabas in his closing observations, which many Muslims consider to be reflective of the “true” gospel but which the vast majority of scholars using historical-critical methods discount as fraudulent, a stance that now even some Muslim scholars recognize (173). Ayoub suggests that Muslims need not deny the historicity of the crucifixion (which the Qur’an, even according to the anti-Western and anti-Christian polemicist Rashid Rida [d. 1935], seeks neither to affirm or deny [174]) and can recognize in it a universal moral significance like that posited by twentieth-century Muslim author Kamil Husayn, who depicted it as “a judgment not against any group of people but against humanity, a repeatable act in any city, large or small, whose inhabitants choose to turn it into a ‘City of Wrong’” (175; cf. 176–77). Part IV, “Muslim-Christian Dialogue in the Modern World: Comparative Studies,” aptly rounds out this collection of essays by giving expression to Ayoub’s cri de coeur regarding Christian-Muslim dialogue. In essence, he sees the two great world religious traditions as facing a momentous choice: to opt either for diversity or for discord. Ayoub is far from pollyannish; he recognizes, even if sometimes reluc- tantly, that both traditions, down to the present time, have enshrined many texts that validate tolerant pluralism and many others that enjoin triumphalistic exclusivism. Faced with this ambivalence, both religions must choose for what will prove most productive for humanity’s future. As he states quite elo- quently, “it must be recognized that we live in a religiously, culturally, and ideologically pluralistic word which we can 418 Theodore Pulcini

either share or destroy. We must therefore be selective in our choices of sacred texts and concepts and should give preference to those which encourage greater understanding and cooperation” (209). Such an approach is especially incumbent, he asserts, upon Christians and Muslims, who must be willing to “seek to understand what God is saying to Muslims through Christianity and to Christians through Islam” (229). To be sure, the “roads” of the two traditions will remain separate, but they will meet at many points. In this work Irfan Omar has put together a remarkable collection of essays. He has drawn together some of the most evocative of Mahmoud Ayoub’s writings, which are both rich in fact and insight and charged with elan and vision. As the number of courses in Christian-Muslim relations multiplies in faculties of religion and theology, this book will – and indeed should – be in high demand; in fact, its quadripartite division can actually serve as the structural basis for such a course. Virtually all of the critical theological issues of Christian-Mus- lim dialogue are raised in this slim volume, often from the vantage point of a fresh perspective that will keep professors and students alike from falling into the arid and tired polemics which have characterized the encounter between Muslims and Christians for far too long.

Theodore Pulcini Dickinson College, Carlisle, PA

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Briefly Noted

Paul Lakeland, ed., Yves Congar: Essential Writings (Mary- knoll, NY: Orbis, 2010), 204 pp.

Recently there has been a mini-renaissance of Congar’s work. In 2010 Liturgical Press will publish an anthology called At the Heart of Christian Worship: Liturgical Essays of Yves Congar translated and edited by Paul Philbert. Liturgical Press will also bring out Congar’s True and False Reform in the Church. Yves Congar: Essential Writings is edited by Paul Lake- land, professor of religious studies at Fairfield University in Connecticut. Lakeland’s own work, The Liberation of the Laity, was, by his own admission, influenced by Congar. This new anthology must have been a labor of love for Lakeland as he worked on his theological mentor. In his generous twenty four-page introduction, Lakeland contextualizes Congar’s life and work. Congar was deeply devoted to ecumenism and ecclesiology. His life was focused on how the people of God can build up the Body of Christ wherever they find themselves:

the Gospel therefore ordains that every disciple, every follower of Christ, should in one way or another fulfill the service of transmitting the faith, of being, with and through Christ, one sent to proclaim the salvation that he brings and to bear witness to his love. This is the greatest of all the services that can be rendered to others, and it is essential to the building up and growth of Christ’s Church (99).

Other passages similar to this fill the book. Congar managed to combine his love of Scripture, theology, and liturgy into a holistic vision of ecclesial life for his own day and age. Thanks to Lakeland and Orbis Press we too can appropriate some of Congar’s thought for today. 420 Briefly Noted

Congar wrote a lot about freedom. In our baptism, Jesus calls us freely and we freely follow. Freedom, as Congar stated many times, is the basis for the Christian life. No one can coerce us into discipleship. Congar’s battles with Vatican functionaries, who wanted to coerce him into the “correct” views of the time, show us the futility and tragedy of such methods. The anthology treats such topics as ecumenism, ecclesiology, the laity, and the work of the Holy Spirit. Lakeland offers us snapshots of Congar’s work so that the reader can go back and read his many books and essays. I was certainly kept desiring to know and read more. From an Eastern Christian perspective I found many points of contact with Congar among Orthodox theologians of Paris in the wartime and postwar periods – including Paul Evdoki- mov, Nicholas Afanasieff, Lev Gillet, and Alexander Schme- mann. There is an openness, a lightness, a sense that the Church is primarily the people of God and not only the institution, i.e., “the bishops only” or “ecclesial administration only” which many of us in ordained ministry often confuse. We tend to emphasize administration and regulation over dynamic and joyful worship, evangelization, and catechesis. We gravitate towards hierarchy rather than laity, structure rather than freedom. Congar died in 1995 at the age of 91. His theological output was prolific, having over two thousand sermons, reviews, essays, books, and conference papers published or archived. Thanks to Orbis and Paul Lakeland, Congar has been reintro- duced to a new generation in both East and West, who can draw again from this great theologian to rediscover this wonderful vision of life firmly rooted in the gospel but completely free from coercion or control.

William Mills Charlotte, NC

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Sergius Bulgakov, The Burning Bush: On the Orthodox Vene- ration of the Mother of God, trans. T.A. Smith (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2009).

The Burning Bush was first published in 1927 in Paris. Since then it was published in Russia as part of a Minor Trilogy in 2008, and has finally made its way to the English- speaking reader as Eerdmans has been commendably filling out what its publisher, William B. Eerdmans, Jr., calls “the Russian front” with English translations of major works of Orthodox theology – with special attention to Sergius Bulgakov (1871–1944), all of whose major works are now in English, with the last, Jacob’s Ladder, to appear in late 2010. Bulgakov’s personal devotion to the Mother of God played an important role in the composition of this monograph, which consists of four chapters and three excursuses. In the main chapters of the book, Bulgakov moves through the themes of personal sin in the Mother of God, original sin in a Mariologi- cal context, and the Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Con- ception of the Mother of God, concluding with the chapter on her glorification. Bulgakov’s excursuses mainly focus on sophiology in the Old Testament (and some patristic authors) as he seeks to make connections between divine sophia and the Mother of God. The author sees the Theotokos as a realization of sophianic presence through the Holy Spirit, but does not fully identify Mary with sophia. The author also states that Mary is the fulfillment of sophia in creation. The present work is an important contribution to ecumenical discussions of Mariology, including some controversial issues between Roman Catholic and Orthodox theologies. This English translation hopefully will provoke more such discussions, which is what Bulgakov explicitly sought when he planned this book as a critical analysis of the Roman Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Conception. With time, Bulgakov felt a need to balance the “negative” criticism with the “positive” approach to the question by proposing some dogmatic teachings on the figure of the Mother of God. He notes that Orthodoxy has not, after settling the question of the Theoto- kos, said much officially about Mary. 422 Briefly Noted

Bulgakov points to the historical development, in both east and west, of the notion of original sin in the Mother of God. He discusses this issue by applying Christological arguments as well as anthropological analysis of human nature before and after the fall. Further, Bulgakov discusses the concept of divine motherhood, which combines the author’s views on Christology and pneumatology. According to Bulgakov, Mary’s motherhood is a fulfillment of her “yes” in the Holy Spirit. At the same time, Bulgakov sees the Holy Spirit as a mothering presence. Mary makes the presence of the Holy Spirit visible in her humanity. In this, Bulgakov sees a gradual uninterrupted process of sanctification of Mary rather than the Roman Catholic “single threshold” in the Immaculate Concep- tion, when the Mother of God was freed from original sin. The translator, Thomas Allan Smith, is an associate professor at the University of St. Michael’s College in Toronto. His contribution to Bulgakov studies is extremely important. Smith offers a very useful introduction, a list of Bulgakov’s sources, and extensive endnotes. As mentioned by Smith, Bulgakov enjoys forming new words in Russian, which are not easy to translate into English. The translator takes into account theological context and the linguistic nuances of some terms, which makes this translation excellent.

Marta Samokishyn Saint Paul University, Ottawa

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William C. Mills, A 30 Day Retreat: A Personal Guide to Spi- ritual Renewal (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2010).

People have been going to monasteries and other locations for spiritual retreats for centuries. Nowadays, the pull of going apart for awhile endures. But it is also possible, and has been for a very long time, to retreat by oneself at home, out in the country, or on a trip. Thomas Merton famously described his Briefly Noted 423

efforts to follow the thirty-day Ignatian exercises in The Seven Storey Mountain. And recently the Jesuit James Martin has used them as the basis for a book on spiritual struggles and growth: The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything. Earlier Andrew Krivak crafted a beautiful memoir using the same template, A Long Retreat. But William Mills, a married Orthodox parish priest and part-time professor, offers a month’s worth of scriptural passages and reflections for anyone wanting to take some time apart in a busy life. He writes with clarity, discernment, and humour, with a keen eye for the details of everyday life. (He is often the one at home caring for his two young daughters.) A talented cook and gardener as well as writer, scholar, teacher and pastor, he holds out to readers not an escapist detour from the troubles and joys of everyday life. Rather, he finds God in the details, in all the nooks and crannies of existence in twenty- first-century America. From what one sees and hears in Star- bucks, at a neighbourhood get-together, in one’s garden, while baking bread or chopping vegetables or doing laundry, at holiday family gatherings, or watching people come one by one into church: from these and many other scenes of everyday life Mills makes verbal icons that match the biblical passages for any given day. The result is not overwhelming but powerful in effect. Day by day, he shows how present God is in the apparent monotony and triviality of every life. The parables and stories in the New Testament sound different – more human, sharper – when we conceive of them as small scenes of the journey toward God in the kitchen, on the street, at the market. The very important perspective that runs throughout the month of reflections is that religion is not about quasi-magical rituals, or rules that must be minutely observed. Religion is not for the most part about the church building, the hymns or vestments or centuries-old prayers said over and over again. All of this is to be found in the faith, but the faith cannot and should not be reduced to cultic practices, rubrics, and rules. Real religion is always connecting (religio, religare) faith and the world, liturgy and life. It has to do with caring for widows and orphans, small children and the elderly. It uses light and music, 424 Briefly Noted

bread and wine, oil and light and color to reveal the presence of the Spirit, the love of the Father, and the work of Christ continuing among us. This wonderful volume could also be used by a group for portions of the thirty days of reflection. In addition to the month of reflections, I think this book also teaches the reader how to take the daily readings or any selections from the scriptures or other spiritual literature and relate them to one’s ups and downs, to the people in my world, the challenges in my job, my home, and my neighbourhood. It is a thoughtful, beautiful exercise in incarnational meditations and it is to be recommended to a wide range of readers as accessible, provocative, and beautiful.

Michael Plekon Baruch College of the City University of New York

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Robert F. Slesinski, The Holy Transfiguration: a Symphonic Presentation (Fairfax, VA: Eastern Christian Publications, 2009), xii + 120 pp.

This lovely little book is suitable for slow, rich meditation on the Transfiguration, which I have often thought the most felicitous feast of the year after Pascha, to which it is closely linked chronologically in the life of Christ, and liturgically in some traditions, such as the Latin, where the gospel pericope is read during Lent. (The Latins never celebrated the Trans- figuration widely until, Slesinski tells us, 1457, but even today for them it is only a second-class feast and has “never carried the same importance and gravitas as in the Christian East.” Why this should be so is an interesting question not pursued by the author.) Slesinski examines the feast through numerous biblical texts (for which, alas, he has chosen to use the New American Bible, whose translations are sometimes stylistically infelicitous and theologically suspect), as well as a close reading of Briefly Noted 425

the Byzantine liturgical texts, ending with a brief “mystagogi- cal catechesis” of the feast. His edifying efforts are the latest in a series of recent books on the Transfiguration, including – to cite only the most recent, and only from Eastern authors – Solrunn Nes (The Uncreated Light: an Iconographical Study of the Transfiguration in the Eastern Church) and Andreas Andreopoulos (Metamorphosis: The Transfiguration in Byzan- tine Theology and Iconography and his more recent work, This is My Beloved Son: the Transfiguration of Christ). Now we have Slesinski’s book, offering us great spiritual insights into a feast whose glory comes to us “as far as we can bear it.”

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Katherine Clark, The Orthodox Church (London: Bravo, 2009), 168 pp.

In the last three years alone, at least five rather good introductions to Orthodoxy have appeared in English. This latest introduction is a very small book – no larger than one’s hand – by Katherine Clark, an American-born translator and teacher who lived in Greece for many years and eventually converted to Orthodoxy. Clark does a generally commendable job in explaining the basics of Orthodoxy. There are, however, a few infelicities in this book, including the occasions where Clark describes sui generis practices observed in a handful of parishes in Greece and extrapolates from them to assume that all Eastern Christians everywhere celebrate services in the manner she observed. Her treatment of holy orders ignores deacons; her treatment of the Julian ca- lendar mangles the dates for Christmas, and claims “all” Orthodox follow the Julian paschalion, which is false; and her sweeping treatment of clerical appearance incorrectly claims that all Orthodox priests are “always bearded” and “always clothed in long robes quite distinct from modern dress.”

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Russell Fraser, The Three Romes: Moscow, Constantinople, and Rome (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publisher, 2009), xxvii + 305pp.

Originally published in 1985, The Three Romes has a new preface from Fraser, now retired from the University of Michigan. He offers us a travelogue based on trips to three erstwhile Christian imperial capitals. Travelogues have their charms, but in this one they are lost in a miasma of ignorance and distortion: Christianity is a “polytheistic religion” that worships “a plurality of gods, not only the familiar Trinity, but a Church Triumphant [of] Saints” (xiv; cf.107). An icon is venerated because “the god himself is enclosed beneath the surface” (58). Fraser tendentiously truncates the chronicle of Vladimir’s conversion, saying the Kyivan prince opted for Orthodoxy only because Islam forbids the use of alcohol and “the Russians … cannot do without it” (64). Perhaps most astonishingly, he casually claims that an Orthodox liturgy he attended in a Russian Orthodox church in Moscow itself was celebrated “in Latin.” An academic hostile to and ignorant of Christianity is not news – but a professor of English at a major research university cannot tell the difference between Latin and Slavonic?

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Gus George Christo, Bishops as Successors to the Apostles according to John Chrysostom: Ecclesiastical Authority in the Early Church (Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2008), vii + 158 pp.

This book appears to be part of the author’s doctoral dissertation from the University of Durham. Most chapters are short, and consist of extensive quotation of primary texts. Christo does not address the hermeneutical challenges of sub- jecting patristic texts to the kind of systematic synthesis he has attempted here without any comment on the crucial questions Briefly Noted 427

of genre, rhetoric, and context. The bibliography cites very few items, two of them by the author himself. Finally, this book suffers from the very mean quality of the cover, paper, and printing, which renders illegible in many places the Greek preface from the Ecumenical Patriarch.

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John W. O’Malley, A History of the Popes: from Peter to the Present (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2010), xiv + 351 pp.

The papacy remains at the top of the agenda of the official international Orthodox-Catholic dialogue. This new book will not offer anything new to ecumenists, but its grand narrative style makes it a fine introductory text for general readers or undergraduates.

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John Chryssavgis, ed., Cosmic Grace, Humble Prayer: the Ecological Vision of the Green Patriarch Bartholomew, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2009), xii + 393 pp.

Cosmic Grace, which contains a foreword from John Zizioulas, has been superbly edited and introduced by John Chryssavgis. His introduction, in fact, helps to clarify some of Patriarch Bartholomew’s points and to give them a stronger theological undergirding. This is an important service of Chryssavgis because several Orthodox theologians themselves, on the occasion of Bartholomew’s most recent environmental symposium in the United States in October 2009, sharply questioned the patriarch’s overwrought focus on ecology to the near-total neglect of much more serious issues such as abor- tion, and wondered aloud on various Orthodox websites 428 Briefly Noted

whether the patriarch was not being manipulated to provide window-dressing for “global warming” activists whose “scientific” case has become a shambles.

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Charles Morerod, The Church and the Human Quest for the Truth (Ave Maria, FL: Sapientia Press, 2008), viii + 160 pp.

The Dominican Morerod has been active in the international Orthodox-Catholic dialogue. Here he draws extensively on Aquinas and Latin ecclesiology, but in this book also evidences familiarity with Vladimir Soloviev and John Zizioulas.

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Jonathan Riley-Smith, The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading (Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009), viii + 227 pp.

First published in 1986, this book is here republished with a new introduction by the author, an outstanding historian at Cambridge whose work on the Crusades is without peer. As he tirelessly demonstrates in this book and others, prior to the late nineteenth century, most Muslims knew nothing of the Cru- sades at all, and those tiny few that did thought them an irrelevant footnote in Islamic-Christian history. Once “the Crusades” were discovered as a tool with which to anachro- nistically slander all Christians as bloodstained warmongers, guilt them into various grovelling concessions, and justify jihad against the West, then the campaign of tendentious re- appropriation and politicized misrepresentation was begun – aided in no small part by the self-loathing ideologues in “colo- Briefly Noted 429

nial studies” and the dress-up historians in English depart- ments.

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Peter Pearson, Another Brush with God: Further Conversa- tions about Icons (New York: Morehouse Publishing, 2009), xiii + 130 pp.

How far ecumenical relations have advanced if today we can have the second of two books on icons by an Anglican cleric from an Anglican publisher when the 1888 Lambeth Conference of Anglican bishops had sniffed of Orthodoxy that “it would be difficult for us to enter into more intimate relations with that Church as long as it retains the use of icons”! Pearson, who has written many icons as well as an earlier book about them, here offers a practical handbook purely on “technical” questions of how to render certain trickier details on icons (e.g., the folds on clothing), and on whether egg tempera can ever be supplemented with, or even wholly replaced by, acrylic paints, which Pearson unapologetically uses exclusively.

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Francis J. Moloney, Life of Jesus in Icons from the “Bible of Tbilisi” (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2008), 143 pp.

This is a delightful book illustrating icons found in the Catholic Cathedral of Mary of the Assumption in Tbilisi, Georgia. In over sixty color plates large and small, the reader is taken on a biblical tour of the events of the life of Christ. Each event, including some one almost never sees in books on icons, is portrayed iconographically and then discussed in light of both the relevant biblical passage (reproduced in its entirety) and patristic commentaries on the same – as well as com- 430 Briefly Noted

mentaries from the author, an Australian biblical theologian. Origen and Ambrose seem to be quoted most often, but others are to be found, including Ephraim, Augustine, and one who is, curiously, identified each time as Saint Evagrius of Pontus. Iconographers of the strict observance may quibble about details on a few of the icons, which perhaps lack in some ways the more ethereal touch of a Theophanes or Rublev; but in the main the whole book is greatly edifying – perhaps especially for some Protestants new to icons and worried about their relationship to Scripture.

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Paul Lakeland, Church: Living Communion (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2009), xiii + 186 pp.

It has been rightly said that the besetting sin of Western ecclesiology is a kind of crypto-Arianism that focuses almost exclusively on the Church as a human institution. That “sin” is clearly in evidence here in a book whose preface opens by flat- ly declaring that “ecclesiology is that branch of theology where we are talking about ourselves” (xi). Once we have conceived of the study of the Church purely as “talking about ourselves,” we are in trouble. For if ecclesiology is indeed a “branch of theology” then surely we should be talking about, and especially listening to, God to find out what He wants the Church to be – it is, after all, Christ’s Body. Otherwise ecclesiology narcissistically degenerates into religious sociology or social psychology, which is all we have here in a book that treats various issues from a purely human, exclusively Latin, and largely North American perspective. Lakeland thus ignores Eastern Christian and Protestant contributions and also something axiomatic over the last half- century – viz., that ecclesiology and ecumenism must be treated together. This is, therefore, a very parochial little book.

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Christopher Caldwell, Reflections on the Revolution in Eu- rope: Immigration, Islam, and the West (New York: Double- day, 2009), 422 pp.

This book raises troubling questions about the consequences, real and projected, of Islamic immigration into Western Europe. Caldwell, a journalist, could have written a more interesting book if he had bothered to consult the many recent scholarly works on, e.g., Islam in Russia or in Europe’s other predominantly Orthodox countries.

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Angelo di Berardino, ed., Patrology: the Eastern Fathers from the Council of Chalcedon to John of Damascus, trans. Adrian Walford (Cambridge: James Clarke and Co., 2008), xxxiii + 701 pp.

This is a paperback version of a book first published in English in 2006. Shortly thereafter, John McGuckin’s review in this journal (vol. 48) noted that Di Berardino’s “book is a ‘must have’ for every serious theological library in the land; not simply for patristics specialists, but for everyone who has a significant interest in the history, doctrine, and development of the Christian religion in one of its most fertile periods of flourishing.” The force of that verdict is all the stronger now that we have a very affordable paperback version, which has robbed any remaining libraries or students still unaccountably bereft of this text of any excuse for not purchasing it from the James Clarke Company, to which all anglophone patrologists are now doubly indebted.

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432 Briefly Noted

Stephen Finlan and Vladimir Kharlamov, Theosis: Deification in Christian Theology (Cambridge: James Clarke & Co., 2006), ix + 185 pp.

Amidst the flurry of recent books published on theosis, which Logos reviewed previously, this one seems to have escaped our attention until the North American reprint was sent to us this year by Wipf and Stock. It is a welcome addition. After an introductory overview, separate chapters examine theosis in: Judaism and the Old Testament; Second Peter; the apostolic Fathers; the Apologists of the second century; Irenaeus; Athanasius; Augustine; Maximus; Protestant Reform theology; and Soloviev.

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Michael Prokurat, Alexander Golitzin, Michael Peterson, eds., The A to Z of the Orthodox Church (Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2010), xvii + 440 pp.

This is simply a reprinted and re-titled version of The Historical Dictionary of the Orthodox Church first published in 1996. It is no.175 in the ongoing series of rather useful “A to Z Guides” that Scarecrow Press has been bringing out. (Earlier this year we reviewed The A to Z of the Coptic Church.) The usefulness of this book, however, will be limited by the fact – obvious from reading various entries, as well as the introductory chronology – that most of this book was written in the very early 1990s as the Soviet Union was collapsing. The ecclesiological and ecumenical consequences of that collapse, and its many subsequent developments, are not covered in this book, which also appeared just before an explo- sion of new publications in Eastern Christian studies. This book’s eighty-eight page bibliography, therefore, would now require considerable updating.

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Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), lxvii + 504 pp.

This is the twentieth-anniversary edition, with a new introduction, of a book that managed, in 1988, to break important new ground and become an almost instant classic in a field that has since grown greatly. In this erudite work, Brown, an outstanding historian of antiquity, takes great care to avoid anachronism by recognizing the “unimaginably distant world of a very ancient Christianity” whose “culture [is] profoundly distant from our own” (xxv). Brown attempted to “defami- liarize” the world of early Christian thought by getting behind the texts to try to help us see as early Christians saw. He argued that it was “particularly important for me to de- familiarize the Western traditions of Christianity, which we tend to take for granted, by showing how they might have looked through Eastern eyes” (lv).

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J.M. Hussey, The Orthodox Church in the Byzantine Empire (Oxford University Press, 2010), xxxii + 421 pp.

Hussey, a professor of history at the University of London, first published this landmark work in 1986. She died in 2006, but her book has been reissued this year with a new foreword and updated bibliography by Andrew Louth. He notes that at the time of first publication, this book was almost alone in the terrain it covered, and has stood up very well over the last quarter-century, not least, Louth says, because Hussey came from an earlier school of historiography that sought to narrate historical events as dispassionately as possible and based as closely as possible on the sources and textual evidence – a “sign,” he says, of Hussey’s “self-effacement.” Today, Louth observes, it is very difficult to write history this way because too many historians are obsessed with questions of “identity.” 434 Briefly Noted

Louth notes that many of the lacunae Hussey lamented have since been filled by other scholars. His welcome “Biblio- graphical Note” very helpfully lists titles, mostly in English, that have appeared in the last two decades.

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Pauline Nigh Hogan, “No Longer Male and Female”: Inter- preting Galatians 3:28 in Early Christianity (London: T&T Clark, 2008), xi + 228 pp.

Hogan’s book began as a doctoral dissertation at McMaster University in Hamilton, but it has been smartly edited into a lucid and welcome study of a topic of increasing importance today, viz., sexual differentiation of men and women – a topic Christians continue to grapple with in debates about female ordination and same-sex relationships. This cogently written book fills a lacuna in the literature by looking at how the Galatians text was understood in the first four centuries of the Church. Hogan looks first at Paul in the context of his other writings, especially I Cor.12:13 and Col. 3:10–11, to which it bears close resemblance; second, at deute- ron-canonical, Gnostic, and other heretical texts, especially those of the Montanists, some of whom apparently used Galatians as a justification for ordaining women as presbyters and bishops; third, at writers of the third century, especially Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and Tertullian; fourth at the Cappadocians; and last at other Latin figures, especially Ambrose. Hogan notes that there is not one consistent understanding of what Galatians meant, and many figures offered differing interpretations even if, in the main, most would seem to agree that, at a minimum, it posited a fundamental ontological equality between men and women. She argues that the text, for Paul, most likely reflects a fundamental tension in his life: he had “deeply held convictions of male superiority in creation … [but] was nevertheless comfortable with women in influential Briefly Noted 435

positions within the Christian communities (Rom. 16:1–16).” She ends by noting that several issues require further explora- tion, including: “Did eastern Greek Christianity have a more nuanced approach to the roles of women, while the western Latin church expressed greater desire to control women’s activities?”

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Hugh McLeod, The Religious Crisis of the 1960s (Oxford, 2010), ix + 290 pp.

McLeod details factors contributing to the collapse of “Christendom,” including the breakdown of the family and the new number of what could be called “available believables” (e.g., socialism, environmentalism, and “alternative spirituali- ties”). Many Christians attempted unhelpfully to “update” their beliefs and practices in part based on a faulty reading of modern culture. (The work to consult here, which McLeod does not, is Tracey Rowland’s Culture and the Thomist Tradition after Vatican II [Routledge, 2003], which offers a very important critique of the inadequate and naïve understanding of modern culture at the heart of Vatican II, especially in Gaudium et Spes.)

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Anthony O’Mahony and Emma Loosley, eds., Christian Res- ponses to Islam: Muslim-Christian Relations in the Modern World (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008), x + 246 pp.

This is an excellent and highly welcome book that belongs in every course and on every bibliography about contemporary Christian-Muslim relations. General (especially undergra- 436 Briefly Noted

duate) readers will benefit from a text that is both scholarly and eminently accessible – not an easy balance to strike in this area. The authors are balanced, moreover, in their tone, avoi- ding polemics, but certainly (and thankfully) not shying away from noting again and again how often Christians have suffered, and continue to suffer, at the hands of Muslims. Almost all the contributors are British academics, but this book’s focus is truly global: there are only two articles on contemporary Britain, and a third on Western Europe. The others deal with Malaysia, the Philippines, Australia, South Africa, West Africa, and the Sudan. One article, Andrew Unsworth’s “The Vatican, Islam, and Muslim-Christian Relations,” is a very interesting (if too brief) treatment that seems to have been written before Pope Benedict XVI’s Regensburg address, which it does not treat. Readers of this journal will be especially interested in the four articles focusing on Russia, Egypt, Syria, and Iran. Basil Cousins’ “The Orthodox Church, Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations in Russia” is a decent general overview that gives brief historical detail before focusing on events in the last two decades. It is, however, very thinly sourced, and one is a little disconcerted to see an over-reliance upon a handful of dubious websites including Wikipedia! Cousins inexplicably overlooks a burgeoning scholarly literature in two key areas: the Russian Church in the post-Soviet period and several recent books by major publishers on Islam in Russia. Fiona McCallum’s “Muslim-Christian Relations in Egypt: Challenges for the Twenty-First Century,” is excellent but limited in scope. Her focus is on events since 1970, which saw Sadat take power politically, followed very shortly (1971) by Patriarch Shenouda III assuming the Coptic papacy. These two would clash repeatedly, leading the former to exile the latter to a desert monastery over his opposition to the proposed introduction of shari’ah law and his frequent demands that the government do something about Muslim violence and Muslim interference with the construction or repair of Coptic churches. After Sadat’s assassination, relations between the patriarch and the new president, Hosni Mubarak, improved somewhat. Mubarak has attempted a balancing act by offering, on the one Briefly Noted 437

hand, “a gradual process of Islamisation” (71) in the hopes this would placate the hyper-hostile Muslim Brotherhood and, on the other, by offering some benefits to the Copts (e.g., declaring Christmas a national holiday for all Egyptians). Further complicating matters are efforts from well-meaning Copts, especially in North America, to draw attention to ongoing Muslim violence in Egypt. The patriarch, whose delicate internal balancing act is apparently upset by such external criticisms, has said in public that these expatriates unhelpfully distort the true nature of the problems in Egypt. McCallum does not say if this is a genuinely held position of the pope, or if he has been forced – by events, the government, or other forces – to take such a position much as Orthodox hierarchs in Eastern Europe did during the Cold War when, pressured by the KGB, they used to attend ecumenical events in the West to argue with a straight face that there was religious freedom in the USSR. The eleventh chapter, by Loosley, treats “Christianity and Islam in Syria: Island of Religious Tolerance?” She begins by rightly recognizing that “Syria remains remarkably myste- rious” (162) to many in the West, and Christianity in Syria especially so. Since her article was published, however, we have several more recent treatments that attempt something of a demystification: two articles in Eastern Christianity in the Modern Middle East (Routledge, 2010); and four articles in Christianity in the Middle East (Melisende, 2008); both volumes will be reviewed in Logos next year. In the present article, Loosley notes that Muslim-Christians relations in Syria enjoy a level of tolerance perhaps higher than anywhere else in the Middle East. Nonetheless, the Christians (figures for which range from 8–15% of the total population) continue to decline because the bad economy causes them to have fewer children, and many of those children end up leaving for better opportunities elsewhere. The final article of note is O’Mahony’s “Christianity, Shi’a Islam, and Muslim-Christian Encounters in Iran.” He focuses on three communities in particular: the Assyrians, the Chaldean Catholics, and the Armenians, each of whom continues to maintain significant numbers in Iran under highly 438 Briefly Noted

restricted circumstances. (A tiny handful of Arab and Russian Orthodox parishes also eke out an existence.) He also notes that both Anglicans and Roman Catholics had a well-established presence in Iran but after the 1979 revolution both lost everything and some of their faithful were martyred.

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Peter L. Berger, ed., Between Relativism and Fundamentalism: Religious Resources for a Middle Position (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010), ix + 209 pp.

Berger, an outstanding sociologist, has here gathered together essays by sociologists and theologians to consider the interrelated and uniquely modern phenomena of fundamentalism and relativism. Especially noteworthy is the last essay by Michael Plekon, offering “An Eastern Church Perspective from the ‘Paris School’ and Living Tradition.” Plekon rightly notes that fundamentalism also afflicts Orthodoxy in Russia and North America, especially among converts. He calmly and lucidly demonstrates that it is entirely possible to be fully Orthodox and fully tolerant of non-Orthodox without descending into relativism. Indeed, it is precisely the Orthodox position to affirm at one and the same time the universal truth of Orthodoxy and the universal freedom of human beings to accept or refuse that truth who is Christ. This is a very welcome and useful essay to have close at hand when next confronted by some sectarian “traditionalist” hyperventilating about ecumenism as the “pan-heresy.”

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Briefly Noted 439

Bronwen Neil, Leo the Great (London: Routledge, 2009), xiv + 185 pp.

This is the latest in the very useful and welcome Routledge series on the Fathers under Carol Harrison’s editorship. Neil, who teaches Latin at the Australian Catholic University, has very helpfully gathered primary texts in this little book along with a brief introduction to the life of Leo, about whom there has been a recent surge of new scholarly publications. This book will assist in the ongoing process of understanding anew one of the most pivotal popes in a crucial period of the Church’s history.

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Aziz S. Atiya, History of Eastern Christianity (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2010), xiv + 486 pp.

This handsome book is a reprint of a 1968 original. We can be very grateful that Gorgias Press continues to reprint many texts in Eastern Christian studies that would be otherwise inaccessible save for aging and yellowed copies in a tiny handful of libraries around the world. This book has a number of black and white plates along with nearly a dozen pages of very useful maps. As I always tell my students, you cannot even begin to comprehend the very notion of Eastern Christianity until you lay aside your cell- phone and GPS unit and actually spend some time studying maps. The title of this book could have been more precisely chosen to reflect the fact that this is a history of the “other” East beyond Byzantium, i.e., of the non-Chalcedonians. Atiya, not surprisingly for a Copt, spends nearly one-third of the book on his co-religionists and their Ethiopian descendants. He then turns his attention to the Antiochian Jacobites, the Nestorians, the Armenians, the Thomas Christians of southern India, and finally (and curiously) the Maronites. He has a brief con- 440 Briefly Noted

cluding chapter on “The Vanished Churches” of Nubia, Carthage, the Pentapolis, and the Islamic invasion of these and the others treated earlier.

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The Glory of Ukraine: Sacred Images from the 11th to the 19th Centuries (Bethesda, MD: Foundation for International Arts & Education, 2010), viii + 176 pp.

This book, brought together by various persons and institutions, including especially the Kyiv Pechersk National His- torical and Cultural Preserve and the Lviv National Museum Named for Andrei Sheptytsky, was published in conjunction with an iconographic exhibition in the United States under the same name. I saw this exhibition in Manhattan at the Museum of Biblical Art in late July 2010, almost nine years to the day I was in the Kyivan Caves Monastery itself. The exhibition will also tour Washington, DC and then Omaha, Nebraska. The Ukrainian ambassador to the United States, Oleh Shamshur, has written a preface and Gregory Guroff, president of the sponsoring publisher, has written a foreword. Three essays are included: “Ukrainian School of Iconography: the Confluence of History, Culture, and Folk Traditions” by Irina Shuts and Maria Gelitovich; “The Kyiv-Pechersk National Historical and Cultural Preserve” by Valentina Kolpakova; and “The Lviv National Museum Named for Andrei Sheptitsky” [sic] by Ihor Kozhan (the shortest piece). This book reproduces in handsome full-page color plates the many icons and other religious works of art now on display outside Ukraine for the first time. I remember standing in the Sheptytsky Museum in Lviv in 2001 amazed at the metropolitan’s prescience in preserving so many precious artefacts that he knew would one day again be of interest to religious believers, art historians, and other scholars worldwide. This exhibit and book are proving him right nearly seven decades after his death. Briefly Noted 441

Some commentary on the exhibit that I read on the Web suggested the exhibition was only icons, but this is not the case. Both the exhibition and this book feature several gospel books on display, numerous hand and pectoral crosses and en- colpia, liturgical items (veils, a diskos and asterisk, tabernacle, chalices), and a few vestments, including a striking green “highback” phelonion with silver thread from the eighteenth century. Religious art dominates both the exhibition and the plates in this book, though only part of it is, strictly speaking, iconographic in nature. Much more common, in fact, are eighteenth-century three-dimensional Baroque paintings, including several of the charming if odd “Christ the Vigilant Eye” type.

Adam A.J. DeVille University of St. Francis Fort Wayne, IN

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Contributors to Volume 51, Nos. 3–4

Catherine Clifford is associate professor and vice-dean of theology at Saint Paul University, Ottawa.

Adam DeVille is editor of Logos and assistant professor of theology at the University of Saint Francis, Fort Wayne, IN.

Lois Farag is associate professor of early church history at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN.

Lucien Frary is associate professor of history at Rider Uni- versity.

Peter Galadza holds the Kule Family Chair of Eastern Chris- tian Liturgy at the Sheptytsky Institute, Saint Paul Univer- sity, Ottawa.

Edith Humphrey is an Antiochian Orthodox Christian and the William F. Orr Professor of New Testament Studies at the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.

John Jillions is associate professor at the Sheptytsky Institute, Saint Paul University, Ottawa.

Nadieszda Kizenko is associate professor of history at SUNY- Albany.

Daniel Larison recently completed a doctorate in Byzantine history at the University of Chicago.

Šimon Marinčák teaches at the Michael Lacko Centre of Spi- rituality East-West at the University of Trnava in Slovakia.

Athanasius McVay is a church historian specializing in the Holy See’s diplomatic relations.

444 Contributors to Volume 51, Nos. 3–4

William Mills is adjunct professor in the Department of Reli- gion and Philosophy at Queens University in Charlotte, NC.

Stephen W. Need is dean of St. George’s College, Jerusalem.

Michael Plekon teaches in the Department of Sociology/ Anthropology in the Program in Religion and Culture at Baruch College of the City University of New York.

Theodore Pulcini is associate professor of religion at Dickinson College, Carlisle, PA.

Marta Samokishyn is a research librarian at Saint Paul Uni- versity, Ottawa.

Jack Turner is an instructor of religious studies at the Univer- sity of South Carolina at Columbia.

Myroslaw Tataryn is vice-president and academic dean of St. Jerome’s University, Waterloo, ON.

THE METROPOLITAN ANDREY SHEPTYTSKY INSTITUTE OF EASTERN CHRISTIAN STUDIES

OUR MISSION As a centre of higher learning, research, ecumenical understanding and prayer, the Institute is an academic unit of the Faculty of Theology at Saint Paul University in Ottawa, offering accredited undergraduate and graduate degree programs in Eastern Christian Studies to both men and women – laity, religious and clergy.

OUR COMMITMENT As a centre of higher learning, the Institute is committed to quality education in Eastern Christian Theology and related disciplines, both at Saint Paul University in Ottawa, as well as in its outreach programs. As a centre of research, the Institute is committed to scholarship and publication in the various fields of Eastern Christian Studies, cooperating with other educational institutions, learned societies and individual scholars. As a centre of ecumenical understanding, the Institute is committed to fostering respectful and fruitful encounter among the various Eastern Christian Churches (Orthodox and Catholic) and between Eastern and Western Christians. As a centre of prayer, the Institute is dedicated to integrating academic study and worship of the Triune God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

OUR HISTORY Founded at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago in 1986, the Institute came under the patronage of the Ukrainian Catholic Bishops of Canada in 1989, and in 1990 became a part of Saint Paul University in Ottawa.

OUR HOPE In dialogue with contemporary societies, the Institute hopes to communicate the power of Christian Faith and living Tradition, so that all may share in the very life of God.

Mission Statement Spring 2000

The Faculty of Theology offers these Graduate Sheptytsky Institute Courses in Eastern Christian Studies

The 2010-2011 Academic Year

FALL 2010 THO 6350/6370 Contemporary Theology I: Contemporary Pneumatology in Ecumenical Dialogue Prof. Achiel Peelman (Monday 1:15–4:15 p.m.)

THO 6378 Resources and Methods for the Study of Eastern Christianity Prof. Andriy Chirovsky (Tuesday 1:15–4:15 p.m.)

THO 6388 Foundational Texts in Eastern Christian Liturgical Theology Prof. Peter Galadza (Thursday 1:15–4:15 p.m.)

WINTER 2010 THO 6310 Theological Hermeneutics Prof. James Pambrun (Thursday 9:00–12:00 noon)

THO 6348 History and Theology I: The Holy Spirit in History Prof. Kevin Coyle (Monday 9:00–12:00 noon)

THO 6376/6359 Foundational Texts in Eastern Christian Spirituality Prof. Andriy Chirovsky (Thursday 1:15–4:15p.m.)

THO 6392 Sources for the Study of the Early History of the Church of Kyiv, X–XIII Century (History of Eastern Christian Institutions, Movements, Persons) Prof. Andrew Onuferko (Tuesday 1:15–4:15p.m.)

Course Descriptions on Saint Paul and Sheptytsky web sites – www.ustpaul.ca, www.ustpaul.ca/sheptytsky

For information on how to register, contact the Admissions & Recruitment Office at 613-236-1393 or [email protected]. Part-time students and auditors welcome. Full-time University of Ottawa students can register at no extra charge.

Sheptytsky Institute Three Year-Plan of Graduate Courses in Eastern Christian Studies (General Plan – Subject to Revision)

Year C (2010–2011) Year A (2011–2012) Year B (2012–2013) THO 6310 THO 6352 THO 6310 Theological Hermeneutics Studies in Eastern Theological Hermeneutics Christianity THO 6348 THO 6350 History and Theology I: THO 6377 Contemporary Theology The Holy Spirit in History Foundational Texts in Eastern Christian Liturgical THO 6375 THO 6350/6370 History Foundational Texts in Contemporary Theology I: Eastern Christian Church Contemporary Pneuma- THO 6378 History tology in Ecumenical Resources and Methods for Dialogue the Study of Eastern THO 6378 Christianity Resources and Methods for THO 6359/6376 the Study of Eastern Foundational texts in THO 6379 Christianity Eastern Christian Issues in Eastern Christian Spirituality Hermeneutics and Exegesis THO 6392 The History of Eastern THO 6378 THO 6381 Christian Institutions, Resources and Methods for Contemporary Eastern Movement, persons the Study of Eastern Theology: 20th Century Christianity Orthodox Theology THO 6397 Foundational Texts in East- THO 6388 THO 6382 West Ecumenism Foundational Texts in Foundational Texts in Eastern Christian Litur- eastern Christian Theology THO 6398 gical Theology Interreligious Issues and the THO 6710 Christian East THO 6392 Herméneutique Théolo- The History of Eastern gique Christian Institutions, Movements, Persons: Sources for the Study of the Early History of the Church of Kyiv, X – XIII Century

The Faculty of Theology offers these Undergraduate Sheptytsky Institute Courses in Eastern Christian Studies

The 2010-2011 Academic Year

FALL 2010 THO 2130** Foundations of Eastern Christian Theology Prof. Peter Galadza (Monday 5:30–8:30 p.m.)

THO 2131** General Introduction to the Eastern Churches Prof. Andrew Onuferko (On-Line)

THO 3305 Eastern Christianity and the Encounter with World Religions Prof. Symeon Rodger (Tuesday 5:30–8:30 p.m.)

THO 3308 Patristic Moral Tradition Prof. Ihor Kutash (Wednesday 1:15–4:15 p.m.)

WINTER 2011 THO 3314 Selected Topics in Moral Theology from Eastern and Western Perspectives Prof. Stephen Wojcichowsky (Monday 1:15–4:15 p.m.)

THO 3316* Ecclesiology and East-West Ecumenism Prof. Peter Galadza (Monday 5:30–8:30 p.m.)

THO 3325 Theology and Spirituality of Icons Prof. Andriy Chirovsky (On-Line)

THO 3328* Holy Mysteries: Byzantine Sacraments Prof. Peter Galadza (Wednesday 9:00–12:00 noon)

* Compulsory ** Compulsory basic (Foundational)

Course Descriptions on Saint Paul and Sheptytsky web sites – www.ustpaul.ca, www.ustpaul.ca/sheptytsky

Scheduling subject to change

Sheptytsky Institute Three Year-Plan of Undergraduate Courses in Eastern Christian Studies (General Plan – Subject to Revision)

Year A (2010–2011) Year B (2011–2012) Year C (2012–2013) **THO 2130 **THO 2130 **THO 2130 Foundations of Eastern Foundations of Eastern Foundations of Eastern Christian Theology Christian Theology Christian Theology

**THO 2131 **THO 2131 **THO 2131 General Introduction to the General Introduction to the General Introduction to the Eastern Churches Eastern Churches Eastern Churches

THO 3305 THO 3303 THO 2119 Eastern Christianity and the The Seven Ecumenical Selected topics in the Encounter with World Councils in eastern Practice of the Church I Religions Christian Tradition *THO 3301 THO 3308 THO 3309 Hermeneutics & Exegesis Patristic Moral Tradition Contemporary Moral Issues in Eastern Christianity in Eastern Theology THO 3314 *THO 3318 Selected Topics in Moral *THO 3315 Eastern Christian Spiritua- Theology from Eastern & Eastern Christian Doctrine lity Western Perspectives II: Salvation, Humanity, The Church and Escha- *THO 3319 *THO 3316 tology Eastern Christian Doctrine Ecclesiology and East-West I: Trinity, Christ and Holy Ecumenism THO 3317 Spirit History of the Ukrainian THO 3325 Church *THO 3322 Theology and Spirituality Byzantine Eucharistic of Icons *THO 3323 Liturgies Canonical Tradition of the *THO 3328 Christian East *THO 3324 The Holy Mysteries: Introduction to Eastern Byzantine sacraments *THO 3347 Christian Ethics Byzantine Liturgy of the Hours and Liturgical Year

* Other compulsory courses ** Compulsory basic course (offered every year)

Resources Available from the Sheptytsky Institute

To Write an Icon (DVD) Produced by the Sheptytsky Institute on VHS cassettes is now available in a set of 6 DVDs. Cost: CDN and US $80.00 (after January 31, 2010 CDN and US $120.00)

Sheptytsky Institute Study Days (June 28 to 30, 2010) Audio CDs of Plenary Sessions Featuring plenary sessions by Rev. Dr. Michael Plekon (Saints as They Really Are), Dr. Suzette Phillips (Through Prayer and Praxis to Healing and Holiness), Rev. Dr. Myroslaw Tataryn (Do I Rejoice with St. Paul in my Weakness?) Cost: CDN and US $45.00 (sold only as a set)

Sheptytsky Institute Study Days (July 2 to 4, 2009) Audio CDs of Plenary Sessions Featuring plenary sessions by Archimandrite Robert Taft, SJ of the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome (Liturgy: The Foundation of Authentic Spitrituality), Father John Behr, Dean and Chancellor of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary in New York (The Cross in Patristic Spiri- tuality), and Martha Shepherd of the Madonna House Apostolate in Ottawa (Embracing Silence: Finding God in the Desert) Cost: each session CDN and US $15.00 / Set of all 3 CDN and US $40.00

Sheptytsky Institute Study Days (July 2 to 5, 2008) Audio CDs of Plenary Sessions Featuring plenary sessions by Fr. Thomas Hopko, Dean Emeritus, St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary Christian Doctrine in an Age of Relativism / Fr. Peter Galadza, Professor, Sheptytsky Institute, Eastern Litur- gy in a Western World / Frederica Mathewes-Green, noted author, speaker and media personality, Morality in a Post-Christian Age / Fr. Andriy Chi- rovsky, Professor and Founding Director, Sheptytsky Institute, Good News in Tough Times: The Evangelization of North America. Cost: each session CDN and US $8.00 / Set of all 4 CDN and US $25.00

Pray for God’s Wisdom: The Mystical Sophiology of Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky. Andriy Chirovsky. ISBN 1–897937–00–0 The first major monograph on the spiritual core of Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky’s thought and life – his devotion to the Wisdom of God. Fr. Andriy Chirovsky studies the life and literary output of Metropolitan Andrey, looking for clues to a clearer understanding of the many levels of meaning that Wisdom-Sophia held for the saintly primate of the Ukrainian Greco-Catholic Church. Comparisons with the three Russian sophiologists (Solovyov, Bulgakov, and Florensky) show how much more rooted in the Tradition were the sophiological musings of Sheptytsky. xx, 279 pp. Cost: CDN and US $20.00

The Theology and Liturgical Work of Andrei Sheptytsky (1865– 1944). Peter Galadza. ISBN 1–895937–13–2 Metropolitan Archbishop Sheptytsky is arguably the most important Ukrainian churchman in modern history. This is the first comprehensive study of the sources and characteristics of his theology, as well as the first full account of his liturgical initiatives. Co-published with Pontificio Istituto Orientale. Volume 272 of their on-going series Orientalia Christiana Analec- ta. 524 pp. Cost: CDN and US $50.00

The Divine Liturgy: An Anthology for Worship. Peter Galadza, Editor-in-Chief. ISBN 1–895937–12–4 A one-volume source for singing the Divine Liturgy in English with sections in Ukrainian. This book contains Sunday, Festal and Weekday Musical Settings for the Divine Liturgy of Saint John Chrysostom, Music for the Liturgy of Saint Basil the Great, the Hours in English, Propers for the Liturgical Year, Tables for Scriptural Readings, Hymns and Carols, Bles- sings and other Brief Rites. xiv, 1160 pp. Cost: CDN and US $60.00, bulk discounts available.

The Divine Liturgy for Congregational Singing (Two-CD Set) This recording, by the renowned chorus Schola Cantorum of Chicago, under the direction of J. Michael Thompson, includes the main sections of the book, The Divine Liturgy: An Anthology for Worship (2004). All of the propers of the eight resurrectional tones are also recorded. Over 2 hours of music. Cost: Two-CD Set CDN and US $25.00

Christian Social Ethics in Ukraine – the Legacy of Andrei Sheptytsky. Andrii Krawchuk. ISBN 1–895937–04–3 As the pre-eminent Ukrainian Greco-Catholic churchman of the 20th century, Sheptytsky defended the rights of persecuted Orthodox Christians and saved Jews during the Holocaust, devoting his life to upholding universal Christian ideals among the Eastern-rite Catholics of Ukraine. Exhaustively documented, this is the first analysis of an inspiring moral response to delicate Ukrainian-Polish and Catholic-Orthodox issues, socialism and communism, church-state relations and the Nazi occupation. xxiv, 404 pp. Cost: CDN and US $50.00

Eastern Christians in the New World: An Historical and Canonical Study of the Ukrainian Catholic Church in Canada. David Motiuk. ISBN 1–895937–14–0 A canonical and historical overview of the development of the Ukrainian Catholic Church in Canada, highlighting the growth of the first parish communities, the appointment of its first bishop and the establishment of the Metropolitan See of Winnipeg. The author examines relations with the Latin Church, various decrees of Bishop Nykyta Budka, Bishop Basil Ladyka, and the Ukrainian Catholic Conference in Canada. The study treats clerics, divine worship, and the administration of the sacraments – viewed in the context of the Ukrainian Church. A significant portion of the work col- lects into one volume the major sources of the Particular Law of the Ukrai- nian Catholic Church in Canada. xiv, 426 pp. Cost: CDN and US $50.00

Unité en division: Les lettres de Lev Gillet (Un moine de l’Église d’Orient) à André Cheptytsky, 1921–1929. Edited with Introduc- tion and Commentary by Peter Galadza. A publication of Father Lev’s correspondence to his bishop, Metropo- litan Andrei, revealing how changes in history are made by the energy, suf- fering, prayer and hard work of persons of faith. The correspondence describes the personal and church history of our time and is a must read for Eastern Church Orthodox and Catholics and anyone committed to the unity of all Christians. Cost: CDN and US $40.00

Subscription rates: Canada CDN $45.00 USA US $45.00 (includes regular tax and shipping) International: CDN $45.00 (plus $15.00 shipping)

For a complete list of Sheptytsky Institute publications, contact us:

Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky Institute of Eastern Christian Studies Saint Paul University 223 Main Street, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada K1S 1C4

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Other Journals Published by Saint Paul University (223 Main, Ottawa, ON K1S 1C4)

Theoforum A journal of the Faculty of Theology published in January, May and October. A referred scholarly journal in French and in English, its articles are also of interest to the general educated reader.

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Studia canonica A journal published twice a year, in French and in English, by the Faculty of Canon Law.

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Counselling and Spirituality A journal of the Faculty of Human Sciences, published twice a year, in English and French. The journal provides a forum for dialogue among researchers, trainers and practitioners. It aims to contribute to the integration of theology and the human sciences in an ecumenical framework.

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