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The Issues of Reform and Renewal in Orthodoxy

The Issues of Reform and Renewal in Orthodoxy

Metropolitan John of Pergamon Zizioulas

Presentation at Armós Publications
Athens, April 24, 2010

Thank you very much for the opportunity to participate in this discussion, as I would describe it, because it isn’t about formulating definitive positions. We are reflecting, and I believe that this element of reflection should not be suppressed in our lives, contrary to what some might prefer.

In this reflection—I regret that I was not present from the beginning to hear the apparently significant points made before my arrival—I would like to first express my complete endorsement of this effort to address this issue. Because, as someone described, this effort is like “settling down a wilderness” which we will all eventually agree upon and so forth—I wish it were so. I believe the problem is deeper; it is not merely psychological, but unfortunately, theological. We have reached a point where we have lost sight of the Church as a living, pastoral reality.

Reform and Continuity

What is the essence of reform? If reform is carried out merely to satisfy certain perceptions of what is right, or simply to return to the original, as in Protestantism, I think that this approach is not in line with Orthodoxy. Orthodoxy is neither an ideology nor a mere adherence to the past. Orthodoxy is the Church. And the Church signifies: care and concern for humanity. Let’s not forget that the most significant manifestation of reform in the Church has always been what we call oikonomia (economy). If you look back historically, you can see the remarkable extent of the Church’s economy throughout the centuries!

Consider the issue of baptism, the acceptance of schismatics, heretics, etc. Initially, we know that sin after baptism was considered unforgivable. The Church, in its philanthropy, reaches out to humanity and forgives sin after baptism. In the 3rd century, Cyprian and the bishops of the East, Cappadocia, and others, categorically rejected the baptism of schismatics (not just heretics), stating that there is no Holy Spirit outside the Church. Thus, they believed these people did not baptize with the Holy Spirit. Gradually, Saint Basil the Great introduced modifications. The Second Ecumenical Council then declared that even heretics, like the Arians, should not be rebaptized. Later, the Quinisext Council stated that we should not rebaptize such groups, nor even require chrism from them, for example, from the Monophysites and the Nestorians.

Theological Criteria: Balancing Humanity and Doctrine

What are these things and how do they sound today? Well, the Church is interested in man. It is not, as I said, and I emphasize, an ideology or dogmatism. I say this to introduce us to the criteria of reform. I contend that our issue is not with the theological justification for reform—which is historically substantiated and continually realized—but rather with the criteria of such reform. Introducing a pastoral criterion, which involves care for humanity regardless of their place within or outside the Church, their beliefs, or their religion, is essential. The Church must not be indifferent to any person. In this light, the Church must seek criteria for reform that always benefit, not harm, humanity.

Concisely, reform devoid of theological criteria is perilous, and reform pursued merely for its own sake is unacceptable, as it does not benefit humanity but rather harms it.

So, what are these theological criteria? The Gospel and Christ present a manner of engaging with humanity and the world, the relationships of man with the world, with his fellow man. This approach is immutable. Altering it would mean introducing a different faith, a different Gospel. As Apostle Paul stated, changing the Gospel he received signifies the end. What we have received is the Gospel, not mere ideas, but a stance of humanity towards God, their fellow beings, and the world.

Embracing Change while Preserving the Essence

I believe that our theology has not sufficiently fulfilled its role. It hasn’t adequately emphasized the essence of the Gospel, leaving us without clear criteria to assess whether a reform is appropriate or not, and whether it alters something fundamental. 

Regarding what is fundamental, there was indeed significant discussion post-1970s about Tradition (both with capital and lowercase “t”), yet the distinction between the two wasn’t clarified. Is the historical criterion valid simply because it’s found in the writings of the Church Fathers or the Holy Scripture? Then, how is it that the Fathers had the freedom to introduce concepts like “homoousios,” which isn’t a term from the Bible? This liberty they had—why don’t we possess it? Some zealots argue vehemently that we cannot change anything, but the issue isn’t about the prohibition of change; rather, as I share this concern, it’s that any change might distort the Gospel. This concern extends to all areas, including liturgical practices.

Therefore, we need to begin by reevaluating and understanding, for instance, what a specific liturgical form, the entrance for example, truly represents. Do these practices align with the essence of the Gospel? These are aspects we might not have previously considered, indicating that our present theological approach might not be capturing the full spectrum of these important nuances.

Hence, it’s crucial to understand the essence, which is fundamentally about human salvation. This soteriological criterion is exactly what the Gospel offers as liberation and freedom for humanity. Consequently, any reform faces the risk of either being outright rejected by those opposed to all reform, or leading down potentially hazardous avenues.

“Now all things are filled with light”: Defining Theological Criteria

Take, for instance, the current liturgical reforms. What criteria are used for these changes? I’ve spent years pondering this and hope to one day, God willing, express in writing how illuminated by the Holy Spirit those who shaped our liturgical tradition were. To me, there is nothing in there that I cannot translate into an existential issue for the salvation of people. Therefore, any alteration I make could impact this existential significance, for better or worse. Many reforms indeed affect this deeply. From this perspective, our approach might be seen as “untheological” in that our theological discourse hasn’t sufficiently shed light on these aspects. 

This is why I approach reform with caution, even though I generally support the idea of reforming many aspects. The theological justifications for many proposed reforms seem lacking. Take the current discourse on vestments, for example. There’s upheaval, but on what grounds? Simplicity, morality, economics? The theological importance of vestments is rarely discussed. If vestments lack theological meaning, why not abolish them instead of just simplifying them? Yet, ask anyone about the theological significance of vestments; most likely, they cannot answer. Is it mere symbolism? And what purpose does this symbolism serve? For me, wearing vestments signifies a departure from history, from the mundane, an entry into an eschatological realm. Wearing everyday clothes during the Divine Liturgy doesn’t symbolize this departure from the world. So, when I step out of history, where am I headed? To a better world, a morally improved history? In that case, the vestments I wear should reflect simplicity and humility.

I firmly believe that the introduction and evolution of vestments in the Church were guided by the sense that we are stepping into the light and glory of the Resurrection, embodying the phrase “Now all things are filled with light.” So, when we have a departure from the world and an entry into the Kingdom of God, we also have a different perception of these things that they want to reform.

I use this as an example among potentially hundreds to demonstrate that each reform should be guided by a theological criterion. The rationale behind many proposed reforms is either a change of practices because they didn’t previously exist (which is the Protestant criterion), or a response to the perceived desires of modern humanity for simplicity and austerity, contrasting with past preferences for richness. These reforms represent adaptations to either the history of the past or to the history of the present, not to an adaptation to the Eschaton. However, the eschatological criterion is indeed significant and, in my view, should be the criterion. Yet, this criterion involves understanding our worldview in the light of the abolition of death, the Resurrection of Christ, and the Second Coming.

Oikonomia Inspired by the Eschata

I maintain that the theological criterion, with its spiritual dimension, is crucial. It concerns how we perceive the world more humanely, our relationships with others, with the world, nature, and our own mortality. True reforms, both past and present, arose quite naturally from this perspective. Historically, when the Church modified its approach towards heretics, schismatics, or even its own members, as seen with the introduction of “oikonomia,” it sought to implement changes without harming the essence of the Gospel. In my view, the essence of the Gospel extends beyond just the Incarnation. (This always bothered me a bit in the late Nellas and others.) I’ve always felt that the primary basis is not the Incarnation but the Resurrection, the Eschaton, the Kingdom of God. That should be our guiding criterion. The Incarnation signifies the world’s reception, but without leading to the Resurrection, what would be its purpose? If the reception of the world doesn’t imply its transformation, making all things new in an existential sense, then what meaning does the Incarnation hold? 

Glory to God, the Orthodox Church, in its worship, has strongly upheld this eschatological element. From my extensive experience with Westerners, I’ve observed that the primary difference between us lies here: they lack the eschatological perspective. They haven’t fully embraced the Resurrection, remaining fixated on the Cross. Seeing some Orthodox people similarly stuck makes me realize that in this aspect their approach diverges notably from Orthodox beliefs.

I’m not sure if I’ve perhaps said more than necessary. Nonetheless, I want to emphasize the problem, from my perspective, lies in the theological criteria, particularly in its existential aspect, the pastoral element. Here, I boldly suggest that I would set no limits. The Church itself never set any boundaries; the only limit is the essence of the Gospel. If we preach the world as Christ presented it through the Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection, shaping the relationship of man with his neighbor, the world, and God, then we open the door to many significant changes. 

This might sound simple and straightforward, but it’s not. In searching for criteria to articulate the essence of the Gospel in today’s world, we find that it requires engaging with certain categories that connect us with contemporary society, a crucial aspect of missionary work. 

Regarding mission work, especially as practiced in places like Africa, and from my experiences in Korea, I observe a certain difficulties regarding the interpretation of Orthodoxy. But what truly defines being Orthodox? Is it simply chanting “Ti Ypermacho” (a hymn to the Theotokos) in Korean by Sakellaridis melody? There needs to be a deeper effort to understand how people from different cultures think—Koreans, Chinese, Africans—and to present the Gospel in a way that resonates with the core of their thought processes, not just superficially in form or appearance. It’s about understanding the worldview of others, like an animist, for example, and immersing ourselves in their mindset. Without this understanding and adaptation of thought, we are not genuinely engaging in mission work, reforming, or dialoguing effectively.

Charting a Forging a Way Ahead: Dialogue and Learning

Thus, we face a substantial amount of work ahead. Implementing reform is by no means a simple endeavor. Those who deny reform are certainly wrong about it—without reform, the Church faces the risk of stagnation and decline. However, those advocating for reform must proceed with utmost caution to avoid enacting changes that might inadvertently cause harm. 

These are my overall thoughts, offered as an initial perspective rather than a conclusive stance. I’m here to listen, to be provoked intellectually, and to learn. None of us will have all the answers ready. We are in a time of learning, and this is precisely why dialogue is crucial—it allows us to understand different viewpoints and contributions. Does the other have something to contribute? The resistance to engage in dialogue, both within our own circles and with outsiders, is a lamentable approach that could lead to negative consequences. It’s essential to foster open dialogue, starting with us and then extending it to others.

Thank you for this opportunity to share and reflect.

 

[Translated from Greek by M. V.]

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John Zizioulas Foundation
John Zizioulas Foundation