Bishop Maxim (Vasiljevic) of Los Angeles
Greek Archdiocese Presbyters Conference
Phoenix, AZ, Oct 30—Nov 2, 2023
In the heart of Phoenix, Arizona, as the desert sun cast its warm embrace over the resort, I stood before a gathering of clergy for the Annual National Greek Orthodox Clergy Retreat. The air was filled with the spirit of fellowship as hierarchs and clergy alike basked in the serenity of our spiritual oasis. The theme, “Serving before His Altar—Serving before His People,” resonated deeply, reminding us of our sacred duty.
As I began to speak, I felt a profound sense of honor. Here, in this peaceful retreat, we were like cacti in the desert—resilient, sharp, and refreshed. I invited my brethren to join me on a journey of spiritual renewal, asking them to open their hearts and minds to the insights that awaited us.
The focus of our retreat was the transformative journey “From the Omega to the Alpha” and the topic: Remembering the Future between the “Already” and the “Not Yet.” I relied on the theology of the late Metropolitan John Zizioulas. His seminal work, “Remembering the Future,” is a testament to his profound influence on Christian thought. I shared personal souvenirs of my encounters with him, recalling how his academic rigor and pastoral warmth had deeply enriched my understanding of our faith. Metropolitan John had a unique way of blending the biblical and eucharistic traditions into his theological discourse, and his last book was no exception.
In “Remembering the Future,” Metropolitan John embarked on a journey from the Omega to the Alpha. This was not just a clever turn of phrase but a profound exploration of biblical truth and hermeneutics. He re-introduced us to the tension that early Christians felt between the “already” and the “not yet,” challenging the modern Christian mindset. He argued that eschatology was not just about the Future but was a perspective that echoed through our past and present.
Metropolitan John Zizioulas was deeply concerned about the Church’s direction in contemporary times. With the delay of the Parousia, he observed how the Church had begun to align more with societal and secular influences, losing its eschatological focus. His critique of the current theological trends, influenced by Platonic thought and focusing more on the soul than the Resurrection of the body, was a call to return to the core tenets of Christian belief.
I emphasized to my fellow clergy the importance of looking forward, not backward. The pitfalls of dwelling on past mistakes could hinder our path to unity. Understanding and experiencing this future-focused theology in our fallen world, where protological thinking often dominates, is undoubtedly challenging. However, through the Church’s teachings, we find hope, guiding us toward a future that transcends our limited understanding.
Together, we explored the idea that our vision of the Future should not be seen as a distant endpoint but as a constant companion in our lives, capable of infusing us with the light of the Resurrection. This eschatological perspective, I stressed, was essential in our quest for Christian unity.
As the retreat progressed, we delved deeper into Metropolitan John’s teachings, each session a step further in our journey of understanding. His insights remained a guiding light, illuminating our path toward a future filled with hope and divine communion.
Continuing the discourse at this Greek Presbyters Conference, I shifted the focus to the profound significance of Eucharistic remembrance, an aspect central to our shared faith and worship. I reminded the audience that the Eucharist is not just a ritualistic recollection of past events but a living, dynamic anticipation of the Future, especially the Parousia, the Second Coming of Christ.
I delved into the theological depth of anamnesis in the Eucharist, illustrating how it encompasses the entire spectrum of salvation history—from the Cross to the Tomb, from the Resurrection to the Ascension, and even the glorious anticipation of Christ’s return. This act of remembrance transcends mere nostalgia; it is a potent affirmation of the ever-present reality of these salvific events in the life of the Church.
Referring to St. Paul’s teachings in 1 Corinthians 11:26, I highlighted the connection between the Eucharistic anamnesis and the anticipation of the Parousia. St. Paul’s words, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes,” underscore the eschatological dimension inherent in the Eucharist. This scriptural basis firmly roots the Eucharistic celebration in a forward-looking perspective, anticipating the ultimate fulfillment of God’s Kingdom.
I noted the observations of scholars like Joachim Jeremias, who linked the phrase “until he comes” to the early Christian prayer, Maranatha, expressing the community’s longing for the Lord’s eschatological coming. The Eucharist, in its earliest form, was a joyous proclamation, a celebration of the Resurrection, and a sacramental foretaste of the Kingdom to come. However, I observed with concern that this eschatological understanding has somewhat waned in contemporary practice.
Next, I posed a thought-provoking question: What does it mean to ‘remember’ in the context of God and the Eucharist? I explained that in the Eucharistic setting, ‘remembering’ carries an ontological weight far beyond the common psychological interpretation of the term. It is not merely a mental exercise or a nostalgic recollection but an act that affirms the reality and the ongoing presence of these divine mysteries.
For instance, Christ’s remembrance of the thief on the Cross was not just a mental acknowledgment but a transformative act that granted the thief entry into the Kingdom. Similarly, when God ‘forgets’ or chooses not to ‘remember’ sins, as mentioned in Hebrews 8:12, it signifies an ontological erasure of those sins from existence. This theological understanding of remembrance in the Eucharist opens up a profound dimension of our faith, where the past, present, and future coalesce into a single, transformative reality.
Continuing our thoughtful discourse at the conference, I turned our attention to a crucial query: Where is the Maranatha today? This question, deeply rooted in our early Christian heritage, reflects the early Church’s vibrant anticipation of Christ’s return, a sentiment that seems somewhat muted in our contemporary worship.
I observed how modern Eucharistic celebrations often lack the palpable joy and expectancy that marked early liturgies. The powerful expressions like “Hosanna” and “Blessed be the Coming One,” once vibrant proclamations of the coming Lord, have become mere liturgical phrases, losing their eschatological fervor. This shift is particularly noticeable in some Orthodox traditions where the Eucharist, despite its Byzantine splendor, is often shrouded in an aura of mysticism or penitence, perhaps overshadowing the joyous anticipation of Christ’s Second Coming.
This led us to the profound topic of the Fall from the Future. The essence of humanity’s Fall, as expounded by theologians like Metropolitan John Zizioulas, lies not in a mere historical lapse but in a profound eschatological deviation. Adam, created to lead all creation towards divine union, faltered not because of a simple act of disobedience but because he clung to the present, forsaking the promised divine Future.
Adam’s Fall, thus, was a turn away from the journey towards theosis, the union with God, which was his and humanity’s intended destiny. This preference for the immediate, tangible reality over a faith-driven journey towards an eschatological promise encapsulates the core of the Fall. St. Maximus the Confessor and others delineated between the ontological state of humanity, sinless and deathless as created by God, and the existential reality post-fall. This distinction underlines that while humanity’s Fall altered its existential state, it did not negate the fundamental truth of our creation in God’s image.
Understanding our origin, thus, requires a forward-looking, eschatological perspective. Our pre-fallen state, now veiled by the Fall, becomes comprehensible only when we direct our gaze toward our destined end. This teleological approach, highlighted by Fr. Florovsky, suggests that the proper understanding of our beginnings and our Fall can only be fully grasped in light of our destined end, the eschaton.
These discussions led to profound reflections among the clergy. We pondered how our worship and understanding of sin and salvation might be enriched by reclaiming this early Christian perspective, a perspective that unifies our past with our Future in Christ.
Gathered in the serene atmosphere of the retreat, I led our clergy into a contemplative space, focusing on the Transformative Power of Repentance, as illuminated by Metropolitan John Zizioulas in his final work.
Metropolitan Zizioulas, in his insightful interpretation, argues that the “end” in Christian eschatology is not simply a return to Eden, the “beginning,” but an advance towards a heavenly City, as depicted in the Book of Revelation. This eschatological city starkly contrasts with the original garden, symbolizing a culmination of God’s redemptive plan rather than a mere return to the initial state of creation. Zizioulas emphasizes the interconnectedness of creation’s purpose from the outset, with the beginning only fully comprehensible in the light of the eschaton. This approach, where the Future informs and gives meaning to the past, is a cornerstone of his theology.
According to Zizioulas, the Divine Liturgy epitomizes this transformation of time. It transcends a mere recollection of past events, evolving into a dynamic engagement with the Future, thereby liberating us from the historical constraints of sin and death. In this liturgical context, hatred binds us to the past and is juxtaposed with the liberating power of love, propelling us into a future of freedom and endless possibilities.
A poignant illustration of this transformative power is found in the story of the sinful woman in Luke 7:36-50. As interpreted by Metropolitan Zizioulas, this narrative highlights God’s boundless mercy and the redemptive potency of genuine repentance. Christ’s interaction with the woman, burdened by her many sins, is not one of condemnation but of salvation through sincere repentance. Her contrition effectively nullifies her past wrongdoings, showcasing the profound truth that no sin lies beyond the reach of heartfelt repentance.
Following Christ’s lead, the Church embraces sinners with love and hope, affirming that redemption is always within reach. This story also underscores our responsibility towards others. The Pharisee fixated on the woman’s past, fails to see her potential for transformation. In stark contrast, Christ’s response exemplifies God’s perspective on sinful individuals—not as perpetual prisoners of their past but as beings capable of profound change and renewal.
Repentance, as presented by Metropolitan Zizioulas, emerges not merely as regret for past actions but as a gateway to a new and liberated future. It is an escape from the shackles of past misdeeds, opening up a path to renewal and transformation.
Metropolitan John Zizioulas’ theological insights provide a transformative lens through which we view time, sin, and redemption. His work invites us to reimagine our approach to these fundamental aspects of our faith, guiding us toward a deeper understanding of God’s redemptive plan and the transformative power of repentance in our lives.
In a thought-provoking segment of our retreat, I guided the clergy to ponder Saint Paul’s profound statement, “Love never fails” from 1 Corinthians 13:8-13. This exploration was not just theological but deeply existential, as we delved into the enduring quality of love, especially concerning the Future.
I shared a familiar narrative to bring this concept closer to our daily experiences: a lover who consistently professed love to his beloved. This declaration, sincere at each moment, faced a test of time. A decade later, the lover’s affections shifted towards another, casting doubt on the authenticity of the original avowal. The paradox was striking and resonant—the truth of the lover’s initial confession seemed to dissolve in the light of subsequent events. How, then, do we reconcile this temporal expression of love with its seeming negation over time?
For answers, we turned to the wisdom of Saint Paul. In his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul transcends the narrow confines of human affection, speaking instead of a divine love that surpasses temporal boundaries and circumstances. He underscores that while spiritual gifts may wane, and faith and hope may find their fulfillment, agape—divine love—remains eternal. This form of love, unlike human sentiments, is not a fleeting emotion tied to the present but an enduring truth that stands firm amidst the ebb and flow of human relationships and time.
Metropolitan Zizioulas, in his theological reflections, emphasized this aspect of Saint Paul’s teaching. He illuminated that true love, in its purest and highest form, is not subject to the whims of time or change. It is not a transient sentiment but an everlasting reality, persisting beyond the uncertainties and transience of our earthly relationships.
This concept of love as an unending, divine force offered a new perspective to the clergy present. It served as a reminder that our pastoral care and affection for our flock should mirror this divine constancy, unaffected by changing circumstances or challenges.
In the second session of our retreat at the Greek Presbyters Conference in Phoenix, Arizona, I steered our discussion towards the intriguing intersection of eschatology and social life, drawing heavily on the profound insights of Metropolitan John Zizioulas.
Metropolitan Zizioulas, I explained, saw eschatology not as a distant, abstract concept but as a dynamic force actively influencing our moral and social decisions. It is about the Kingdom of God already being amongst us since Christ’s Resurrection and how this reality should shape our actions and interactions. Zizioulas believed that the ultimate values from our eschatological beliefs could profoundly impact our daily lives. “Consider how this shapes our approach to current social issues, conflicts, and the ethical dilemmas we face,” I prompted, urging them to see beyond the immediate concerns to the eternal picture.
However, as I pointed out, Zizioulas was keenly aware of the challenges in applying these lofty eschatological values within our flawed human history. Our current social reality is a life of conflicts and contradictions, which will not be fully resolved until the future Resurrection. Applying these values is an evolving process, requiring patience and deep understanding.
Transitioning to secularization, I brought Zizioulas’ concerns about history needing an eschatological transformation to acquire true meaning to light. “He warned against the dangers of secularization, which he saw as the absolutization of transient forms of history—nations, states, social institutions,” I explained.
For the late Metropolitan John of Pergamon, it was about transforming these with an eschatological breath, highlighting their temporary nature and extracting what is eternal.
Then, the topic turned to technology and its role in secularization, where Zizioulas offered significant caution and wisdom. He recognized the paradox in the Church using technological means that inherently promote globalization to convey a message against it. For him, technology was not neutral; it posed risks to the Church’s message and mission.
Zizioulas’ response to this was twofold. First, I noted that he urged the Church to be vigilant in using these tools, recognizing their potential for evil, especially in how they threaten our freedom and dignity. Secondly, I continued, he emphasized the need to maintain a clear distinction between the Church’s use of technology and the preservation of its core institutions, such as monasticism and the Divine Eucharist.
“Monasticism has always been a voice against secularization,” Zizioulas reminds us, “and the Divine Eucharist, by its nature, is an eschatological event. Both must remain untainted by secular influences.”
In conclusion, I emphasized Zizioulas’ belief that while the Church can use the tools of the modern world, it must do so without becoming a product of it. Our mission and message must remain clear and uncorrupted. We navigate this digital age while maintaining our distinctive eschatological and sacramental identity.
In the embrace of the Arizona desert, we have traversed a path from understanding to action, from history to hope, reminded that our faith is a living journey towards a future shaped by the promise of eschatology, where the transformative power of love, repentance, and the eternal presence of the Divine guides every step we take.
