Tuesday, March 31, 2026

The Path to God

Archbishop Sergius (Korolev) of Kazan and Chistopol (+1952)

 

 

People constantly complain that life is monotonously gray, that it has become hateful to them and therefore seems very unhappy. Every day we get up and work until exhaustion and never see a ray of joy. And besides all this, we do not cease to be grieved, irritated, and angry, mostly over trifles.

Whence comes this oppressive feeling of unhappiness and abandonment? The origin of our misfortunes lies in the fact that we yield to the influence of external circumstances, living mechanically, and become slaves to things that have no significance whatsoever, things that are here today and may not be here tomorrow. In other words, we mistake the unceasingly passing life, with its anger, insults, envy, and hatred, for real life.

The constant agitation in which we live is the cause of the loss of peace and calm in our hearts, which, as a result, are plunged into darkness. But he who walks in darkness stumbles; and we are cast into darkness because we take the sinful state of our souls, that is, their possession by dark forces, for reality. And when we carry this anxiety into our spiritual relations with others, mutual disunity and estrangement arise. Such a feeling of disunity is a cause of suffering. Undoubtedly, however, each of us strives for well-being and happiness, for God gave us the earth for joyful dwelling upon it, gave it to us so that we might be happy on it and, so to speak, partake of the glory of God. But where are we to seek good and joy in everyday life? We like to strive after heroic exploits in the hope that they will give us the possibility of attaining blessedness. But this is only a fleeting moment of passing joy. We, however, seek abiding joy and well-being in our daily life.

A great obstacle on this path of ours to joy is the fact that for the most part we live mechanically, for we do not judge man from the side of the soul, in all his fullness, but touch him only from the outward side, not taking the trouble to reach the true essence of man. This is all the greater an omission because in reality the life of each one of us is a great wealth. Every person has his own personality, every one has his own task, each of us is, as it were, a messenger of God. Alongside this it must especially be emphasized that in every person there is more good than evil.

One might naturally ask: how can this be so? Around us one sees so much that is bad, a whole sea of evil. Yes, but if evil is a full sea, then good is positively an entire ocean. Evil in us does not cease to show itself on the surface; it catches the eye, whereas good is hidden, scattered, not concentrated. Evil is bold, whereas good is modest. Evil is darkness, sin; it is our weakness and misfortune, our death. Good is light, a uniting force, power, joy. In short, good is life. We do not encounter one another by chance. The Lord unites us in the family, in society, in the nation, whereas the spirit of evil strives to divide us and set us at odds. Our task is to overcome this disintegrating force, for only by this path can we discern that one thing in us which is from God and which gives us well-being in life. Evil and sin rob man, for they do not allow him to manifest himself in the full measure of his spiritual essence. But when man does not overcome that which divides us, then we do not see true life, but only its seeming image. Such disunity and isolation are subject to severe condemnation, for we are called to communion. Only in communion does our soul fully blossom in life. Therefore, communion among us is not a matter of indifference; it is manifested first and chiefly in the word. Yet the word must be regarded as a reflection of the Word.

The Lord said, “Let there be light.” And the light came into being. The invisible received its existence from the Word. The word can manifest tremendous power. In the 32nd Psalm we read: “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and by the breath of His mouth all their host.” In us as well, by the word the hidden is manifested and becomes plain. Therefore, one must use the word with great caution. It is important that our word breathe goodness into the surrounding atmosphere. For by means of the word we wish to attain well-being. Therefore, the word that proceeds from our lips must contain within itself that good which will illumine our life. When in conversation a good word has had force, there long remains after such a conversation a sense of something precious, substantial, divine. The word should draw us closer to one another, bringing unity and not division and disintegration. But we live in sinfulness, which weakens the power of our word, and therefore the word does not enter our life in its full strength. Only a word free from sin manifests itself in full power, for in that case it is united with the Word that created the light. A word that falls into an environment that resists it acts with the greatest force and has enormous significance in the ordering of our life. A word issuing from the hidden recesses of the soul, not weakened by our own sinfulness, being the power of the potential good within us, brings with it light and goodness, since it is in union with the Source of light and with the Word. The word becomes incarnate.

If we utter a word without attention, we do not think that these words, rising to heaven and vanishing into eternity, may be bearers of divisions and disintegration in the family, in society, among nations, throughout the whole world. When we gather in company, we usually begin with judgment, and very quickly pass over to condemnation. Judgment and condemnation are a poison that disintegrates life. Condemnation divides us, repels one from another, whereas the word—a reflection of the Logos on earth—ought to carry with it the light and joy of being into the atmosphere of enmity and disintegration in which we live. The word has eternity within it. It is of the highest importance that our relations with people give us the joy of life; therefore, we must use words in such a way as not to be condemned by them. “But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment” (Matt. 12:36).

Therefore, in our relations with people we must be sociable and not shun them. If we succeed in finding that which is common among us and which proceeds from God, then true joy will dwell in our heart. In this way we acquire values by which we then live. Seeking and finding communion in God, we become fellow workers with God here on earth. Through such cooperation we are reborn and enter into the realm of the essence of light. In such a rebirth there is reflected both the light and the glory of God, and the Lord Himself finds in us a foundation on the basis of which He can draw near to us. “For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:20). Thus, when people live in company with two or three, in a family or in some other shared life, and thereby overcome their estrangement, they begin to feel a community of the interests of life, which brings them happiness and well-being. The overcoming of this distance creates the impression of our identification with others, as though we lived soul to soul. We are all created in the image of God, and it is precisely this image of God that unites us. By this means we gradually attain unanimity in the expression of the will. This is that unity of which Christ said: “That they all may be one; as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me” (John 17:21). The consequence of this is that in unity there is life, in division there is death. This unity is like a thread cast from earth to heaven, to God, to the unifying center. Unity brings us well-being, which is the foundation of our true joy in life. This is the law of life. Whoever deviates from it must inevitably suffer for it. Unfortunately, in our petty everyday way of life we usually do not regard it as our duty to seek in this drab life that which we have from God and which alone can draw us close to one another. On the contrary, we take the image of division for true life and do not even try in any way to overcome this division, despite the fact that such division deprives us of the possibility of finding joy even in everyday life, prevents us from opening our soul and manifesting our true qualities. These qualities live in us precisely so that we may manifest them. The Lord has endowed us all with good qualities and has given us potential abilities for their realization, but we do not manifest them rightly, not making use of the powers that slumber within us, but by which we could move mountains. If only we desire it, we can kindle within ourselves a blazing fire of good. If we acknowledge that daily life is in fact only a means to the creation of true life, then we see that we have turned the means into the end. As a result, we go through life as though in a dream, plunged into darkness, sinfulness, and passions, gazing only at the darkness that we now see before us. The evil spirit hinders us from looking at the light, and we become instruments of his dark powers and because of this, of course, suffer greatly. We must look around us at life with open eyes. And then we notice that the mechanized life to which we have wholly surrendered ourselves is poisoning our soul. True, we know that our soul was created for eternity, but we do not care for it at all; on the contrary, we try in every possible way to acquire material riches, neglecting eternal riches. We are very poor merchants, for we appraise our soul far too cheaply, although we possess nothing more precious than it. We buy only that which has absolutely no value for eternity, and we pay no attention to that which passes into eternity. We do this because sin has darkened for us the true condition of all things. Only when we truly come to know all the falsity and untruth of our life, only then will a real exchange take place, for man will come to know the light of God that illumines his darkness, will begin to find his bearings in the vanity of life, and will begin to direct himself toward God and eternity. Let us not forget that each one of us has received certain talents, and we are obliged to manifest and then to multiply this talent given us by God.

The unfolding of this talent has been placed directly into our hands. In meeting other people, we must overcome within ourselves that which separates us from them; by this we manifest our abilities, unfold the talents entrusted to us, and by this value enrich both ourselves and them. Every encounter in which we conduct ourselves attentively toward those around us will be for us a source of great enrichment, for in such an encounter there will always be light and goodness. For beauty can be found in every person, but our sinfulness hinders this. Therefore, even in everyday life one should seek its true values by rejecting its mechanical course. And by this we attain that not a single day will pass idly into eternity, but each day will be for us a source of at least some small measure of joy and well-being, as constituent parts of eternity that will pass with us into the life to come. If we wish to merit these values, then we must awaken within ourselves the creative power by which we can overcome our inertia and free ourselves from the darkness of the passions that have taken possession of us. Passion and sin take from us the true joy of life and prevent us from seeing the beauty of God’s light. Therefore it is precisely the overcoming of sin that leads to a joyful knowledge of the world and at the same time to the creation of a new, true life, which in fact is the task of every person. In this way we attain that the outward, old man dies within us and a new man is created. By overcoming sin, we uncover the good, with which, if only for a moment, we immerse ourselves in eternity.

How are we to realize this creative life? By being constantly on guard, so as to be aware of all the vices in the life of the soul and to eliminate them. It is felt that we are truly, as it were, on the border between good and evil. In our heart, almost every moment, a struggle is being waged between evil and God. Evil unceasingly introduces darkness into our heart: irritation, anger, envy, condemnation, laziness. If, with God’s help, we overcome this darkness, then light will enter our heart, or even the Lord Himself.

I repeat: it is very important that we realize that the Lord created the world by the Word, for He said, “Let there be light!” If we strive to live a creative life, then we shall become, as it were, a reflection of the Creator Himself. Good thoughts appear in us as a reflection of God’s creative thought. A good thought is itself light, for it gives us light in the likeness of the creative principle which it brings from the very Source of Light—God. A good thought shines and penetrates into the chaos of life’s contacts between good and evil, creates a new life, and leads to the overcoming of darkness. It was said: “While ye have light, believe in the light, that ye may be the children of light. These things spake Jesus, and departed, and did hide Himself from them” (John 12:36). God’s light illumines us constantly and everywhere, but the darkness of our soul repels it. In essence, when some thought illumines us, we experience it as though it were a ray from heaven that has shone upon us and illumined everything that until then had been unclear to us. Such a ray awakens us from sleep and proclaims the power of God. “Let there be light,” said God, and light appeared. But it appears now also, and by it a new life comes before our eyes. By this light we can transform our gray life as well into a new, bright, joyful life, when, of course, we pay special attention in the direction of this light, which penetrates into us in the form of a good thought that urges us to overcome evil.

By the creative power manifested in us, we discover within ourselves the source of good and learn to feel the joy of life, and as a consequence of this our attitude toward life will be not mechanical in character, but creative. And this creative activity will at the same time bring a clarification of our life.

In the intellectual realm, a man often compels himself to reflect and to work, not infrequently for whole years. Through strenuous effort one can come into contact with God’s light. Having then entered into the realm of luminous thoughts, we dispel the darkness of our heart and thereby begin to create a new life that frees us from evil. Our misfortune lies in the fact that our will has been weakened by sin. Therefore, the will must be so educated that it may help us emerge from confused feelings into the realm of another being, into the realm of light. To sins we surrender slavishly, whereas to the Lord we surrender by our own will. But this, indeed, is possible only if we overcome sin within ourselves. For this purpose, an enormous effort must be applied; true heroism must be shown. Therefore, the man who has overcome sinfulness by an act of his will is free, whereas the man given over to sin is a slave of sin. He who has overcome sin sows joy and has allowed light to enter the heart, that is, the Lord. When there is light in our heart, we feel as though everything around us gives us joy and that being itself has drawn near to us. Thus we come to the realization that our sinful life is in essence not true being, but a distorted one that brings unhappiness. True being contains only good and brings only well-being. Thus the struggle with sin, which is true progress, is the primary source of a new life, full of joys hitherto unknown to us.

Let us not forget that every person, as I have said, has his own special calling, a certain advantage of his own, his own beauty, by which he must serve the light. Thus individual human being is manifested, freed from sin and developed into the fullness of true life. It becomes a valuable contribution to the treasury of the whole world.

Naturally, in these efforts we must not be afraid of exertion or avoid it. After all, in athletic training we sometimes use great effort. It is not hard for us to rise early for athletic exercises; for their sake we know how to deny ourselves excessive food and drink and to perform various special exercises the whole day long. And in such undertakings we may speak of heroism or even asceticism, employed, of course, for earthly goals. All who wish to become athletes must be temperate. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. “And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible” (1 Cor. 9:25). All the more natural, then, is heroism for the Christian who wishes to overcome his sinful nature, which hinders him from attaining happiness and deprives him of eternal life.

The overcoming of sin gives us the joy of being; it gives it not only to the man who struggles against evil and conquers it, but through him it is communicated to others as well. In this way the personal overcoming of sin by one man becomes the possession of all humanity, becomes the basis of social rebirth, by which evil on earth is destroyed and the common good is increased. The consequence of this is the overcoming of all sin by virtue, extending to the whole world. By overcoming sin, a man concentrates good within himself and, together with this, the beauty of human dignity, and enriches others as well. Good is eternal; it proceeds from God and strives to return to God. This striving of good toward God is true life and constitutes the realization of the Kingdom of God on earth. The Kingdom of God is not obtained by us easily, but only through effort. It is a good that can be realized here on earth, and not somewhere above the clouds. Remaining in sins diminishes this good, my joy of life.

Our forefathers were created sinless, but from the moment of the first sin, it enters into our very nature, is born with us, and holds us captive. We must be convinced that sin is not something that is truly ours. This awareness is very important for us, because it awakens in us the striving to free ourselves from sin, which brings us unhappiness. Further success in the struggle against sin consists in this: that we begin, to a certain degree, to be reborn. One who was formerly irritable and hot-tempered, for example, learns to restrain these impulses; one who was stingy becomes generous; a man constantly troubled and wrathful finds peace. The good that is within us is manifested in the struggle with our passions. This is precisely that cross of which we are so afraid, but with the cross come joy and resurrection as well. The thought of resurrection is the victorious thought of good. To remain in sin is to be in darkness, whereas he who remains in a state of holiness lives in the light, the source of which is the Holy Spirit. In this state man is reunited with God, returns to the Father, and experiences with his whole being joy in the Holy Spirit.

By driving the darkness out of our heart with heavenly light, we are filled with the Holy Spirit, who transforms our life at its very foundation, calling life out of non-being into true being, and this light then determines our direction toward a new life. The struggle with our passions is difficult, and therefore we must turn to God for help, without Whom we are not able to change our sinful nature. The Lord is always near us and will help us at once. A brief but fervent prayer is enough: “O God, help,” and by this very thing we bring a new life into being. A thought turned to God for help pierces the heavens, and from heaven there comes an answer to our cry in the form of light, driving out the darkness that has settled in our heart. Every thought of God is a consequence of the action of the Holy Spirit within us. By crying out to God, we pass over into another realm of being. This union with the Light of God is already in itself an act, for by our petition we attain this, that the Light of God is poured out upon us and awakens in us the energy for action, so that the good that until now had slumbered within us is awakened and manifests itself. This light is our guiding star. Calling upon God illumines our inward being with heavenly radiance, enlightens that which surrounds us, and, what is most important, helps us climb out of our gray life, which chiefly shows itself because of our weakness of will. Along with this there arises the impression that by this light eternity itself is opened before us and that in this way we ourselves become partakers of it.

Such a change of our heart from darkness to light, or from evil to good, is the miracle of the transformation of the old man into the new; it is the drawing near to us of heaven, for which we so ardently long. In moments of such change, we undoubtedly enter into another being, touch eternity, and become convinced that man is truly given great power to transform a sinful life, with God’s help, into the Kingdom of God. And every such man is, as it were, a wonderworker, for by victory over sin he reveals God within himself. In our daily life we are too much cut off and removed from the source of God’s light; this is all the greater a misfortune for us because by the light of God we are able to become capable of seeing and recognizing the illusory character of our ordinary life.

Without calling upon God, we can in no way free ourselves from slavery to things and become absolute slaves of our surroundings. But a single small turning to God is enough, and soon our heart is illumined by His light and the true significance of things in this world is shown to us. Therefore it is necessary as often as possible to illumine our daily life with a ray of God’s light, by overcoming sin, as though opening a window into our inner being, so that through it heavenly light may pour into our heart. This is the foundation of the creative life, of the spiritual and Christian life; at the same time it is the foundation of well-being and happiness. The more such bright moments there are in our life, the more our life will be illumined by Divine light; the more resolutely we must reject the passions, and our life will acquire ever more unexpected beauty and value. Then man will experience the true joy of life and a good undisturbed by anything; and all this is nothing other than victory over sin and drawing near to God. Then true life will be established on earth, that life for which we pray daily in the words: “Thy Kingdom come.” It is necessary that we understand that the Kingdom of God is true good and happiness on earth. True joy for the liberation of the heart is the joy of the Holy Spirit, who has descended into us.

To name oneself a Christian means to come out of a state of sleep and inertia, to manifest one’s creative powers. It is necessary to spread the understanding that Christianity is not passive, but on the contrary wages a very active struggle against sin. Christianity is not something cut off and infinitely remote, but on the contrary something fully realizable here on earth.

The Christian religion is not a religion of grief and suffering, but, on the contrary, a religion of joy and well-being. The Apostle Paul says: “Rejoice always” (1 Thess. 5:16). But in reality we can rejoice only when we overcome within ourselves the state of sinfulness, for only the overcoming of sin can bring the soul joy, which is the beginning of blessedness; concerning this the Apostle Paul said: “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him” (1 Cor. 2:9).

 

Russian source: https://azbyka.ru/otechnik/Sergij_Korolev/put-k-bogu/

Elder John of Valaam (+1958): On the Jesus Prayer


 

Honorable in Christ ...

I received your letter, and you write to me that the Jesus Prayer is becoming habitual for you. At one time I, [while practicing prayer,] became very frightened: in my heart there arose a warmth, but not of the blood, rather some kind of special warmth. And I cannot explain it; this warmth spread throughout my whole body, and tears began to flow simply in streams; at that time all people became so kind, and I felt as though I would throw myself at everyone’s feet. Then I became completely weak, I could not stand, and I lay down on the bed; such a state continued for several hours. Still, I would get up and walk, but the tears and the warmth in the heart continued the whole day.

Do not be frightened and do not think highly of yourself; do not tell others, for they will not understand, and will think that you are in prelest. Bishop Ignaty (Brianchaninov) called this state of yours the Heavenly Guest. Strive to attend to yourself, for attentiveness is the soul of prayer. Do not condemn anyone for anything, have no enmity, neither cunning nor vainglory, and above all no exaltation of yourself, otherwise this Heavenly Guest will not visit you.

You also write that the prayer is sometimes interrupted. It cannot be otherwise, for God alone is unchanging, and the angels always glorify the Lord. The venerable Macarius the Great said from his own spiritual experience that “change happens with everyone, just as with the wind.” And the venerable Mark testifies to the same in his writings. And the venerable Isaac the Syrian speaks of this in detail and at length in the forty-sixth homily and in other places in his writings.

It was not without reason that the holy fathers said that changes happen to everyone; with them this proceeded from their own experience.

Still, do not lose heart, but continue to labor in prayer, for without prayer life will be full of many sighs. And the Lord showed us an example, that we should not lose heart (Luke 18:2).

If anything else happens, write to me.

April 2, 1956

New Valaam

 

Russian source: https://azbyka.ru/otechnik/Ioann_Valaamskij/pisma_valaamskogo_starca/

 

 

On Papal Infallibility

Archimandrite Mitrophan (Abramov) (+1945)

(Later Bishop of Sumy)

 

 

Among the newly invented dogmas of the Catholic Church is also the dogma of papal infallibility. The essence of this dogma is as follows: the Roman pope, being fallible like every man, is nevertheless infallible in his judgments when he reasons about matters of faith and the Church. The grace of God, abiding in a special manner upon the Roman Pontiff, does not allow the head of the Catholic Church to err in his official judgments on matters of faith. Catholics express it thus: when the pope speaks ex cathedra (“from the chair”), he is infallible.

Before examining this above-mentioned teaching of the Catholic Church, let us put the following question to Catholic theologians: from what time did the popes become infallible? If the popes became infallible only in the most recent time, when the dogma of papal infallibility was officially established, then naturally this teaching is a newly invented one, unknown to the ancient Church, and therefore false. But if Catholics say that the popes were always infallible—and they cannot possibly say otherwise—this will be untrue, since history testifies that many popes erred not only in ordinary human actions, but also in matters of faith.

So as not to be unsubstantiated, we shall point to a whole series of popes who undoubtedly erred.

Thus, it is known that Pope Victor (192), at the beginning of his ministry, approved of Montanism.

Pope Marcellinus (296–303) committed the sin of idolatry; specifically, he offered sacrifice to the goddess Vesta.

Pope Liberius (358) agreed to accept Arianism and to condemn St. Athanasios the Great, so that for this he might be recalled from exile and restored to his former see.

Pope Honorius (625) adhered to the Monothelite heresy.

However, not wishing to incur condemnation for partiality, let us turn to the Catholic historians themselves and see how they characterize their own popes. The well-known Abbot de Vallemont gives the following characterization of certain popes: “Boniface VI (896). ‘Although his election seemed canonical, this man did not deserve to be pope. Some historians omit him.’ Stephen VII. ‘A cruel man; he violently seized the chair of St. Peter. He ordered the corpse of his predecessor, Pope Formosus, buried in the Vatican, to be taken out of the ground, clothed in pontifical vestments, and seated on the papal throne, and, approaching this corpse, said: How did you, being bishop of the city of Porto, dare to ascend the universal Roman see? Then he ordered his vestments to be stripped off, his three fingers with which the pontifical blessing is given to be cut off, and the corpse to be thrown into the Tiber. All those ordained by Formosus he deposed. For this the citizens rose against Stephen, bound him with iron chains, and cast him into prison.’ Sergius III (907). ‘He had no regard for canonical rules in becoming pope.’ Lando of Sabina (912). ‘A man of dark life. On the recommendation of Theodora, a powerful woman, the history of whom somewhat darkened her glory, he made a dishonorable man bishop.’ John X (913). ‘He attained the papacy through the intrigues of Theodora. This man, so unworthy to be pope, was nevertheless very useful for Italy.’ John XI (931). ‘Of shameful birth. The son of Sergius III and Marozia, a Roman lady, having attained the chair of St. Peter by unlawful means, he nevertheless showed much patience and strength in prison, where his brother Gaius ordered him confined.’ John XII (955). ‘He was the son of Alberic, Margrave of Tuscany. At eighteen years of age, he was elevated to the papal throne through the schemes of his relatives. Because of his disorderly life he was driven from Rome, to which he again returned through the strenuous efforts of noble ladies. One Italian, being dissatisfied neither with his wife nor with the pope, deprived him both of the papacy and of life.’ John XV (985). ‘A Roman. This person was not greatly praised. Church properties intended for the poor were generously distributed by him to his relatives. He died of hunger in prison.’ John XVIII (1024). ‘He became pope by means of force and money. When he was driven from his throne, Conrad, King of Germany, deliberately came to Rome to restore him.’ Benedict IX (1034). ‘From the counts of Tuscany. Made pope through violence and simony.’ Damasus II (1048). ‘He himself became pope; but fortunately, he did not long occupy the throne he had seized.’”

We have cited, of course, extracts not about all the popes, but only about such ones as even the most accommodating conscience would not agree to recognize as infallible in matters of faith. Let us now point out popes who in matters of faith contradicted one another and violated one another’s decrees. “Paschal II (1088–1099) and Eugenius III (1145) approved duels, whereas Julius II (1609) and Pius IV (1560) forbade them. Eugenius IV (1431–1439) recognized the Council of Basel and the restoration of the use of the holy chalice in the Bohemian Church, whereas Pius II (1458) abolished this privilege. Adrian II (867–872) declared civil marriages valid, whereas Pius VII (1800–23) condemned them. Sixtus V (1585–1590) published an edition of the Bible and by a well-known bull approved the edition, whereas Pius VII condemned those reading it,” and so forth (Speech of Bishop [Josip Juraj] Strossmayer).

After all the above, there can be no talk of the infallibility of the popes in matters of faith. Indeed, the grace of God, abiding, according to Catholic belief, upon the popes, cannot contradict itself and instruct the popes in opposite things, since the Lord is One and the Same forever and does not change (cf. Heb. 13:8).

And can sound reason even agree that men who often occupied the papal throne thanks to intrigues, violence, and simony; men whose whole life was often a complete violation of the Divine canons; men who repeatedly transgressed the law of faith and issued decrees contradicting one another—could be infallible in their judgments on matters of faith and the Church? To acknowledge the latter would mean to acknowledge an absurdity than which, it seems, nothing more senseless could exist.

True, Catholic theologians attempt to prove that everything reported by historians about many of the Roman popes is falsehood and slander; but if one admits that even a single pope erred in matters of faith, then that one case alone is already sufficient to destroy completely the whole theory of papal infallibility invented by Catholic theologians. If grace keeps one from error, why did it not keep another? And how is one to know which of two popes judges matters of faith correctly, and which does not, if both the one and the other are infallible? And who will determine the correctness of a pope’s judgment, if among Catholics there is no one above him, and only the infallible pope himself is the criterion of his own judgments in matters of faith? It is possible to emerge from this labyrinth only in one way: by recognizing the teaching on papal infallibility to be untenable and rejecting it as something contrary not only to history, but also to sound human reason. Will Catholic theologians ever agree to this? Of course not, for by this they would sign the death sentence of their Church in the form in which it exists at the present time. To say openly and directly that errors exist in the Western Church would mean to dethrone it, to remove it from the pedestal on which it has stood unlawfully, and to put it in its proper place. And so Catholic theologians resort to the most impossible distortions, so long as they may in one way or another justify the teaching on papal infallibility invented by the Catholic Church.

How, then, did this strange teaching arise? Its appearance was the inevitable consequence of the teaching concerning the primacy of the pope that had arisen earlier.

Having recognized the pope as the head of the Church, the vicar of God on earth, and having placed him above the ecumenical councils, Catholic theologians encountered a natural and unavoidable obstacle. It turned out that the Catholic Church had deprived itself of an infallible authority in matters of faith. Until then, such an authority in the Church had been considered to be the ecumenical council; but once it is recognized that the pope is above the council, and once the decrees of the latter are considered valid only after their confirmation by the pope, then the authority of infallibility must belong not to the council, but to the one who sanctions the conciliar decisions, that is, to the pope. Catholic theologians were thus faced with the following dilemma: either reject the primacy of the pope, or acknowledge papal infallibility in matters of faith. The theologians chose the latter. Thus, one error inevitably gave rise to another.

What shall we say about this new error of the Catholic Church?

We have already seen how groundless and, to the point of absurdity, strange this newly invented teaching proves to be before the inexorable judgment of History. Now let us place it before the judgment of the Word of God and show its groundlessness from another side.

Let us ask the Catholic theologians: to whom did Christ entrust the supreme infallible authority in the Church? The theologians will say: to the Roman pope, as successor of the Apostle Peter; but the Word of God tells us otherwise:

Having founded on earth His Church, that is, the society of those who believe in Him, the Divine Founder of Christianity, our Lord Jesus Christ, did not bestow within this society an infallible authority upon any one particular member, but entrusted the latter to the whole Christian society in its entirety, or to the whole Church. Only the whole Church received the right to be the supreme judge in matters of faith; only to the decision of the whole Church was the authority of infallibility granted, so that whoever did not wish to submit to the Church’s decision could no longer be considered a member of the Church.

“If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone; if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established. And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the Church; but if he neglect to hear the Church, let him be unto thee as a heathen man and a publican” (Matt. 18:15–17). Thus Christ taught. For this reason the Apostle Paul also wrote to his disciple Timothy: “the Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:15).

Why, then, did Christ entrust the authority of infallibility only to the whole Christian society, and not grant it to any one member of the Church? The reason is very simple. Matters of faith can be decided only under the guidance of the Holy Spirit (John 14:26; for more detail, see 1 Cor. 2). But the fullness of the gracious gifts of the Holy Spirit is not the possession of any one member of the Church; it belongs to the whole Christian society. Only the whole Church, as the entire Body of Christ, bears within itself the whole fullness of Divine grace, whereas the individual members of the Body of Christ, or of the Church, bear within themselves only that gift of Divine grace proper to their own position. This truth is beautifully expressed by the holy Apostle Paul in the First Epistle to the Corinthians.

“Unto each,” writes the Apostle, “is given the manifestation of the Spirit for profit. To one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit; to another faith by the same Spirit; … to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discernment of spirits, to another diverse kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues… For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ… For the body is not one member, but many” (1 Cor. 12:7–14). But if each member of the Church is the bearer only of a certain portion of the gracious gifts, while their fullness belongs to the whole Church as the entire Body of Christ, then it is clear that only the whole Church can be considered the infallible judge in matters of faith, as something belonging to the whole Christian society. Meanwhile the Catholics have recognized as judge an individual member of the Church—the pope. But does the pope embody within himself the whole fullness of the grace of the Holy Spirit entrusted to the Church? Of course not. This would be so only if the pope alone in his own person constituted the whole Body of Christ, or the Church; but “if,” writes the Apostle, “the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling? If they were all one member, where were the body?” (1 Cor. 12:17–19). That is why, whenever questions arose in the Church concerning the whole Christian society, the Church never relied upon the voice of any one particular member, but always assembled Ecumenical Councils for their resolution, and regarded their authority, as the voice of the whole Christian society, as infallible for itself. It may be objected to us that sometimes the Church accepted for universal guidance the judgment of individual persons. Yes, but not immediately; only when those judgments had been approved and sanctioned by the Ecumenical Councils. Until that time, judgments of individual persons in matters of faith were regarded as private opinions, having no binding force for the whole Christian society. This means that the error of the Catholics, who have recognized the pope as infallible in matters of faith, consists in this: first, that, contrary to the Word of God and the Tradition of the Church, they have entrusted infallible authority to an individual member of their Church; and second, that they have set their Church upon the path of new delusions and errors. For indeed, who can guarantee that the popes will not abuse their infallibility and devise even more grievous errors? After all, from such popes as we saw at the beginning, one may expect anything. And who will restrain the pope from error? The grace of God? But the pope, as we have shown, is not the bearer of the whole fullness of Divine Grace. An Ecumenical Council? But the latter, as Catholics believe, is not valid without the pope’s approval. Individual persons? But they are obliged to believe the popes unconditionally, having themselves recognized them as infallible. But perhaps Catholics will say: the pope always has knowledgeable persons with him who, when necessary, can warn him against errors. Such an objection will again prove contrary to the state of affairs established in the Catholic Church. Fallible men will be restraining the infallible one from delusion, and the authority of papal infallibility will become dependent upon the opinions of people capable of error. Such is the labyrinth into which Catholic theologians have led their Church by creating the doctrine of papal infallibility.

 

Source: Разбор римского заблуждения о главенстве и непогрешимости папы [A Refutation of the Roman Error Concerning the Primacy and Infallibility of the Pope], Archimandrite Mitrophan Abramov, Kharkov Carpatho-Russian Committee, Kharkov, 1916.

Online:

https://azbyka.ru/otechnik/Mitrofan_Abramov/razbor-rimskogo-zabluzhdenija-o-glavenstve-i-nepogreshimosti-papy/3

 

 

Monday, March 30, 2026

The Orthodox People as Guardians of the Faith and the Limits of Confession

Protopresbyter Dimitrios Athanasiou | March 30, 2026

 

 

Introduction

Orthodox ecclesiology recognizes in the people of God a particular and irreplaceable role in the preservation and transmission of the truth of the faith. The term “people of God” (λαος του Τευάς) does not refer merely to a conglomeration of believers, but to the entirety of the body of the Church, clergy and laity, who participate actively in the life and confession of the faith. The theological tradition of the Eastern Church has consistently underscored the importance of the people as guardians of Tradition, without, however, this meaning that this role is arbitrary or uncontrolled.

I. The Theological Basis of the Role of the People

Synodality and the Participation of the People

The Orthodox Church is by definition synodal. Synodality is not limited only to bishops and clergy, but extends to the whole fullness of the Church. The people of God, as “a royal priesthood, a holy nation” (I Peter 2:9), are called to participate actively in the life of the Church. This participation is not passive but dynamic, since the people are called to “test the spirits” (I John 4:1) and to discern truth from falsehood.

The historical witness of the Church is clear: at the Ecumenical Councils, the acceptance of the decisions by the people was a necessary prerequisite for their canonical force. Saint John Chrysostom, despite his deposition by the Synod of the Oak, found refuge in the love and recognition of the people of Constantinople. The people, by their “exact consent” (ἀκριβὴς συναίνεσις), constituted the final judge of the correctness of the decisions of the Church.

The “Conscience of the Church”

Father Georges Florovsky has underscored the importance of the “conscience of the Church” as the rule of truth. This conscience is not an individual matter, but a collective reality expressed through the whole people of God. The people, through the centuries, have preserved the faith by prayer, worship, art, and their daily life.

II. The Role of the People as Guardians

The Preservation of Tradition

The people of the Church are the chief bearers of Tradition. Tradition is not merely a series of dogmas, but the living experience of the Church transmitted from generation to generation. The people, by their participation in the mysteries, the observance of customs, and prayer, keep this Tradition alive.

Popular piety, the so-called “godliness of the people,” has often anticipated the official decisions of the Church. Liturgical life, hymnography, iconography, and popular theology constitute expressions of this guarding function of the people. The Saints of the Church, for the most part, came from among the people and were recognized by the people before their official canonization.

The Confrontation of Heresies

Historically, the people have played a decisive role in confronting heresies. The Monophysites, the Iconoclasts, and the Uniates were opposed not only by the bishops but also by the refusal of the people to accept the falsification of the faith. The popular resistance to Iconoclasm, with the women who hid the icons and the monks who proclaimed Orthodoxy, constitutes a characteristic example of the role of the people as guardians.

III. The Limits of the People’s Confession

Submission to Holy Tradition

However, the role of the people as guardians is not arbitrary. The people are obliged to submit to the holy Tradition of the Church, as this is expressed through Holy Scripture, the sacred canons, and the decisions of the Ecumenical Councils. The “conscience of the Church” is not identified with individual opinion or the preferences of the people, but with the confession of the faith handed down by the Apostles.

Saint Ignatius the God-bearer was already warning from the 2nd century: “wherever the bishop appears, there let the multitude also be.” The unity of the Church is secured through communion with the bishop, who is the guarantor of the correctness of the faith in the local Church. The people cannot confess independently of the bishop, nor can they reject ecclesiastical order.

When the Bishop Does Not Uphold Orthodoxy: The Resistance of the People

1. The Dilemma of Obedience

The question you raise is crucial and historically perennial: What ought the people to do when the bishop, who is the guarantor of the correctness of the faith, himself departs from it?

The answer is not simple, because it involves two fundamental principles that appear to conflict:

• Obedience to the bishop as the expresser of the unity of the Church

• Obedience to the truth of the faith, which is higher than every person

2. The Patristic Teaching: Obedience to God Rather Than Men

The Apostle Peter: The Criterion of the Faith

Holy Scripture gives the first and authentic criterion: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). The Apostles, when they were called upon to be silent, answered: “For we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20).

This principle also applies to the relationship between the people and the bishop. Obedience to the bishop is obligatory when he speaks in accordance with the tradition of the Church. But when the bishop departs from it, the people are obliged to prefer the truth of the faith.

Saint John Chrysostom: The Example of Resistance

Chrysostom himself, although deposed by the Synod of the Oak (A.D. 403), did not accept the decision as just. The people of Constantinople supported him, recognizing that the Synod had been convened in a contrived and uncanonical manner. The resistance of the people was not rebellion, but a witness in favor of the truth.

In his letter to Pope Innocent, Chrysostom writes that the Synod was a “robber council,” and the people recognized this. This shows that the people can discern and judge when they possess spiritual perception.

Saint Maximus the Confessor: The Refusal of Communion

The most characteristic example is Saint Maximus the Confessor (7th century). When Pyrrhus, Patriarch of Constantinople, and the bishops of the East accepted the Monothelite compromise with the Monophysites, Maximus did not follow them. He refused communion with the bishops who had abandoned Orthodoxy, even when this meant persecution, exile, and torture.

Maximus did not create a schism, but preserved unity with the Church of the Fathers. He refused communion with the heretical bishops, remaining faithful to the Orthodox faith. This stance was later recognized as correct by the Sixth Ecumenical Council.

III. Discernment: When the Bishop “Does Not Uphold Orthodoxy”

Degrees of Deviation

Not every disagreement or imperfection of a bishop constitutes a heretical deviation. The Church distinguishes:

1. Personal weaknesses or sins — These do not nullify the bishop’s ecclesiastical status, although they render him unworthy.

2. Administrative errors or injustices — The people may seek correction, but they do not refuse communion.

3. Theological deviations from the faith — Here the critical issue begins. If the bishop teaches heresy or introduces innovations that violate Tradition, then the people are obliged to resist.

4. Pure heresy and apostasy — When the bishop publicly and persistently denies dogmas of the faith, then refusal of communion is not only a right but an obligation.

The Criterion of the Ecclesial Conscience

The people do not decide arbitrarily that the bishop “does not uphold Orthodoxy.” The criterion is:

Holy Scripture

• The decisions of the Ecumenical Councils

• The teaching of the Holy Fathers

• The living tradition of the Church

When the teaching of the bishop comes into conflict with these, then the people have the right and the obligation to protest.

IV. The Means of Popular Resistance

1. Protest and Appeal

The people must first protest within ecclesiastical frameworks. A letter to the bishop, an appeal to higher ecclesiastical authorities (a Synod, the Patriarch), and the communication of concern to the fullness of the Church are the first steps.

2. Refusal of Communion (Walling Off)

If the bishop persists in heresy, the people may refuse communion with him. This means:

• Not participating in the mysteries celebrated by that particular bishop

• Seeking spiritual guidance from Orthodox clergy

• Maintaining unity with the Church of the Fathers, not with the heretical bishop

Refusal of communion is not schism when it is done for the sake of the truth. Schism is separation from the Church, whereas non-communion with the heretic is the preservation of unity with the Orthodox faith.

3. The Witness of Confession

The people are called to confess the truth, even at risk. The history of the Church is full of lay confessors who resisted heretical bishops:

• The women of Constantinople who hid the icons during Iconoclasm

• The monks of Mount Athos who resisted Uniatism

• The laity of Russia who did not accept the innovations of Patriarch Nikon (Old Believers)

V. The Limits of Resistance

[The first point of this section is refuted by precedents established by various saints throughout history, cited here:

https://orthodoxmiscellany.blogspot.com/2025/04/examples-of-parallel-bishops-and.html]

The Avoidance of Schism

The people do not have the right to create their own “Church” or to ordain their own clergy. That would be schism. Refusal of communion with a heretical bishop does not entail the establishment of a new ecclesiastical structure.

The people remain members of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, even when their local bishop has deviated. They seek communion with other Orthodox clergy or bishops, maintaining unity with the catholic conscience of the Church.

Humility and the Avoidance of Fanaticism

Resistance must not be accompanied by abusive speech, personal attacks, or a lust for power. The people confess the truth with humility and love, even toward the heretical bishop. Condemnation of the person is forbidden; condemnation of heresy is obligatory.

VI. The Responsibility of the People

When the bishop does not uphold Orthodoxy, the people cannot invoke “obedience” in order to justify acceptance of heresy. Obedience to the bishop is conditional, not an absolute obligation. The prerequisite is the bishop’s Orthodoxy.

The people are obliged:

1. To know the faith — Without knowledge, they cannot discern

2. To protest — With respect, but with clarity

3. To refuse communion — When heresy is manifest

4. To confess the truth — Even as witnesses

5. To remain in the Church — Without creating schism

The history of the Church proves that the people, when they are spiritually alive, are capable of discerning the truth and resisting error, even when it proceeds from the bishop. The “conscience of the Church” is expressed through the fullness of the faithful, and not only through the hierarchy.

As Saint John of Kronstadt wrote: “The truth is one, and that is what we must follow, whoever the speaker may be.”

The Danger of Populism

The excessive exaltation of the role of the people can lead to forms of populism that undermine ecclesiastical order. Populism constitutes a heresy according to which the people are treated as the sole source of authority in the Church, severing them from the hierarchical structure and Tradition. This tendency, which appeared strongly in the West with Protestantism, constitutes a threat to the unity and apostolic succession of the Church.

The people are not the sovereign of the faith, but its guardians. They do not create the truth, but receive it and preserve it. The confession of the people is valid only when it is integrated into ecclesiastical life and subject to the tradition of the Holy Fathers.

The Relationship Between Clergy and People

The limits of the people’s confession are also determined by their relationship with the clergy. The clergy, and especially the bishop, are the teachers of the faith and the guarantors of orthodoxy. The people are obliged to listen to the clergy when they speak “in the name of the Lord” and in accordance with the tradition of the Church. Conversely, the clergy are obliged to listen to the people, to respect the “conscience of the Church,” and not to impose arbitrary decisions.

The healthy relationship between clergy and people is complementary. The clergy without the people are an empty ritual institution; the people without the clergy are a headless body. The confession of the faith requires the unity of both.

VII. Contemporary Challenges and Prospects

Globalization and Orthodox Identity

In the contemporary environment of globalization, the role of the Orthodox people as guardians of the faith becomes more critical than ever. The challenges of Ecumenism, religious syncretism, and secular humanism threaten Orthodox identity. The people are called to discern and confess the truth, but without falling into fundamentalism or isolationism.

The Participation of the Laity in Synodal Bodies

Contemporary ecclesiastical practice has recognized the need for the active participation of the laity in synodal bodies. Lay theologians, scholars, and representatives of lay organizations participate in the sessions of the Holy Synods, offering their witness and knowledge. This participation does not replace the role of the clergy, but complements it, enriching the synodal process with the experience of the laity.

The Formation of the Faith

The exercise of the role of guardian presupposes the formation of the faith. The people need catechesis, theological education, and spiritual guidance in order to be able to discern the truth. Catechesis is not the exclusive privilege of children, but a lifelong necessity for every believer. Ignorance of the faith leads to easy manipulation and distortion of Tradition.

Epilogue

The Orthodox people are indeed guardians of the faith, but this role has clear limits and prerequisites. The people preserve the faith when they are united with the clergy, subject to holy Tradition, and alive in Eucharistic communion. The confession of the people is valid when it expresses the “conscience of the Church” and not individual opinions or social trends.

The challenge for the contemporary Orthodox Church is to preserve the balance between the active participation of the people and the safeguarding of ecclesiastical order. The people are not sovereign, but fellow travelers in the Church’s journey toward the Kingdom of God. Their confession is a gift and a responsibility, a charisma and a ministry, which they are called to exercise “in love” and “in truth.”

 

Greek source: https://fdathanasiou-parakatathiki.blogspot.com/2026/03/blog-post_42.html

 

 

The Importance of the Orthodox Ethos and Religious Tolerance in the Face of the Threat of Political Ecumenism to Orthodox Self-Identity

by Bishop Auxentios of Photiki [now of Etna and Portland]

Source: Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XVIII (2001), No. 3, pp. 18-26.

 

 

Most Reverend Bishop Photii, Archbishop Chrysostomos, distinguished clergy, our eminent lay speaker for the day, Dr. Miller, beloved pilgrims, fellow Christians, and much-loved brothers and sisters of the true-believing Bulgarian flock:

The title of my humble talk, today, is “The Importance of the Orthodox Ethos and Religious Tolerance in the Face of the Threat of Political Ecumenism to Orthodox Identity."

I ask for your forgiveness and patience at the outset: that you will forgive my few superficial words and that you will forgive me for forcing you to endure these words. Through the prayers of all of you, perhaps, I will have something to say that may benefit us and inspire us in our struggle for the whole of the Orthodox Church.

We “Old Calendarists" are not, as all of you know, the worshippers of a calendar. We use the change in the Church's festal calendar—which was indisputably first ushered in to serve the ecumenical movement and, as the infamous encyclical issued by the Patriarchate of Constantinople in 1920 so boldly put it, to make the common celebration of Christian feasts a first move towards the union of all Christians “beyond the boundaries" of differences in faith and doctrine—as a sacred banner in our warfare against the kind of religious syncretism which equates the historical Church, the Holy, Catholic, Apostolic, and Orthodox Church, with those heretical and wrong-believing bodies which have, over the centuries, separated from what our forefathers knew to be the Church established by our Lord, sealed as it was by the blood of the Martyrs and codified and expressed in the writings of the Fathers and the conscience of the Royal Priesthood of the People of God. Our struggle is against a direct and unrelenting assault against our Orthodox self-identity, our awareness that, however unworthily, we contain, preserve, and continue the very Church of Christ.

Our struggle, then, is not a struggle for a mere calendar of sacred events or a struggle against the so-called canonical or official Churches. Our struggle is to preserve those Holy Traditions (only one of which is the Church’s Festal Calendar) from which canonicity and officialdom arise. (And let me emphasize, here, something which Orthodox theologians unwisely ignore today; that is, that the spiritual authenticity of the traditional precepts, customs, practices, and teachings of the Church is the source of canonicity and officialdom and that canonicity and officialdom are not the source of spiritual authenticity). Spirit-bearing Church Fathers and the Faithful whom they serve and who in fact give them their administrative authority form that Gestalt which is the mystical union of Christ in Heaven with the Church on earth, the Faithful with their Shepherds, the local with the universal, and the transcendent with the temporal. Our struggle, within and for the Universal Church, is to preserve this integrated wholeness, joined in Grace and love, that is the core of Orthodoxy, the true Body of Christ.

Drawn to love in love, we are naturally zealous in our desire to preserve in full purity the Body of Christ, the True Church, the martyric Church of Orthodox Christians, protecting Her against every adulteration. What, then, can we feel, except revulsion and great sadness, when our Church leaders betray the uniqueness of Orthodoxy? The Patriarch of Constantinople has described the Orthodox Church as one lung, along with Papism, of the One Church of Christ. Other Bishops have signed ecumenical documents which attribute to the notion of the “True Church’’ such epithets as “medievalism,’’ narrowmindedness, ignorance, and intolerance. Adulterating the purity of Orthodoxy with that which rejects her and her Savior, interfaith ecumenism has called us to see all religions in the light of Christianity, even if they do not confess Christ or, like those of the Jewish and Moslem religions, actually formally reject any idea of His centrality to universal salvation.

Reacting to an anti-ecumenical spirit of late, a number of Orthodox Churches have, admittedly, withdrawn from the world of religious syncretism that is the World Council of Churches, an organization that hopes to bring all of the religions of the world—religions, along with Orthodoxy, that it considers merely human and possessed only of partial truth—into union, so as to form a Super Church that draws all of the relative truths of every world religion into a composite truth. (Parenthetically, we should note that, by bringing all of these religions together, the World Council of Churches may, rather than combine all of the partial truths that they supposedly contain, combine all of the falsehoods that they embrace, thus creating a Super Church that reflects all evil.) This move by some Orthodox away from the World Council of Churches, however, has been the cause of even greater pain for us anti-ecumenical traditionalists. For, at the same time that these Churches and their leaders have reacted to the demands of the Faithful that irresponsible ecumenical activities come to a halt, they have, with a derisive wink of the ecclesiastical eye, turned to the ecumenists, assuring them that as soon as the “ignorances” of the people have been addressed, they will return to the world of religious syncretism.

Betrayal and condescending arrogance on the part of the Orthodox ecumenists is sad enough. But they have even fallen to self-contradicting hypocrisy by condemning us anti-ecumenists—who have walled ourselves off from them in the style of the Cappadocian Fathers, the Studite Fathers, and the anti-unionists of the Byzantine Middles Ages, during whose time political unions were forged, under imperial pressure, with the Latins—as uncanonical, heretical, and outside the Church. Not only would we remind these ecumenical voices, again, that what they are doing violates the Canons, exposes them to the charge of religious syncretism, and removes them from the Patristic consensus, but we would also note, with astonishment, that they condemn themselves as virtual hypocrites for embracing ecumenism. After all, ecumenism disallows words like “heretic” and preaches that no Church is official or true. It is hardly seemly for the ecumenists to condemn us, their brothers, as heretics for upholding what the Fathers teach, even if we do chastise them for their error and have walled ourselves off from the illness that besets them. How, indeed, if no Church has the truth, can the ecumenists declare us to be outside the Church? And how can they in good conscience open dialogues with Roman Catholics, Protestants, Jews, and Moslems, while they hate, revile, and condemn us? And if they would cite the extremists who preach hatred in the name of Orthodox traditionalism—and, as in any resistance movement, there are always those who deviate from moderation—, we would ask them to talk to us and not to those whose immoderation we criticize ourselves. Moreover, it is not we who created extremist resisters, but the very individuals, the ecumenists, who made resistance necessary in the first place.

When I was a doctoral student at the Graduate Theological Union at Berkeley, a liberal institution which reflects the attitudes of the famous University of California at Berkeley, with which it issues joint graduate degrees, one of my professors—an internationally-known expert in liturgical theology and, though a Roman Catholic, a man of conscience and Christian uprightness—asked me why I did not follow the school’s liberal ecumenical policies. He said, “After all, the greatest scandal of Christianity is that Christians are separated from one another.” I agreed with this. It is a scandal. But it is not the primary scandal of Christianity. The primary scandal of Christianity, as Archbishop Chrysostomos consistently says, is that we Christians are separated from God. And when that separation is corrected, as it is through Jesus Christ and His One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, the Orthodox Church of our Fathers, then the separation among Christians will come to an end. If heresy has divided us, a return to Orthodoxy can unite us. This was the ecumenism of the Fathers, the ecumenism which we embrace, and the ecumenism which, indeed, renders the political ecumenism of the contemporary Orthodox ecumenists—who are seeking worldly recognition, political gain, secular power, and all of the perquisites which accompany these things—something worthy of our revulsion, something worthy of our condemnation, and which demands that we wall ourselves off from those who are infected by this spiritual disease, so that we, too, weak as we are, do not become infected and ill; and so that we, who unworthily but boldly stand up against the force that has made our brothers blind, may help them to regain their vision, to overcome that bacterium of religious syncretism that, in the name of political ecumenism, false love, and the absolute relativism of religious syncretism has made them blind, spiritually feeble, and susceptible to the temptations of the world.

In our struggle for the preservation of the pristine identity of Orthodoxy, constituting, as we do, a minority within the Church, we are beset, as imperfect humans, by all of those things which threaten a minority. If the Holy Spirit gives us strength beyond our numbers and personal abilities, and if, to paraphrase one of the great Confessors of the Church, we are, by virtue of preaching the Truth, a majority in our minority status, we are nonetheless prone to the temptations of human frailty. Psychologically, resistance movements traditionally run the risk of becoming, not, as they should be, a body of healthy believers within an ailing greater body, but a body unto themselves, imagining themselves to be the very thing which they are, through resistance, trying to bring back to health. This has happened in today’s traditionalist movement, where many Old Calendarists have begun to think that they are the Church and not a resisting part of the Church. They run a risk like that of some of the Iconodules, who, after the restoration of the Icons, refused to relinquish their status as a resisting body, forgetting that they were part of the greater body of the Church, and were of necessity chastised and punished by the Church for this unwisely zealous blindness to the unity of the Church.

We also, as a minority, face the danger of retreating into our resistance movement as though it were a unique and separate refuge. Even if we do not fall to believing that we constitute the whole Church, in which we are but the confessing pleroma, to use an expression of St. Theodore the Studite, we can easily come to think that, having walled ourselves off from error, we are immune to error. This very thought, this very illusion of immunity, can lead us to the most dangerous of all sins, that of pride. And therein, we lose ourselves and our movement and betray our sacred responsibility towards the Church. This attitude of proud retreat and an almost paranoiac turning-in on ourselves can also foster unhealthy apocalypticism. Because of the influence of Protestant thought, the Orthodox Church is riddled with a fundamentalistic view of the end of the world. Even holy people have been innocently misled into personal theological opinions in this area that breed an almost pathological fear of the world and thus impede that joyous activity of spreading the Faith that occurs even in the most dire of circumstances. In the resistance movement, this apocalyptic extremism can lead one to reinforce the idea that the catholic nature of the Church has come to an end, that there is no hope for Church union, and that dialogue and exchanges will lead nowhere. This is a dangerous and deadly temptation that we must avoid at all costs, since the Christian lives in the “eschatological now,’’ in the renewed world that shines through the darkness of the realm of sin and which has already, in some ways, overcome the fruitless efforts and reign of Antichrist. This is not to say that we must not prepare for the reign of evil; but we must prepare by positive actions and by hope that, even when the end seems near, our repentance will move God and that the world will have yet more time to come to Him and to be transformed.

In referring to these dangers that face us, I mean simply to place our resistance in a sure context, exhorting all of you, and of course myself, to avoid all folly, all demonic distractions, however spiritually lofty they may seem to be, and everything that draws us away from the sacred task of maintaining our spiritual health for the sake of calling back our erring brothers to the fullness of the Faith. This task demands hope, and we must not be deterred by hopelessness, by turning in on ourselves, and by forgetting that we are called by God to work as the small flock within the greater Body of Christ.

In mentioning these dangers, now, I do not mean to suggest that we should not be vigilant and wise. Just as it would be foolish to view the present trend towards anti-ecumenism in the so-called official Churches without skepticism and an acutely critical eye, as I noted above, so we are equally foolish if we think that, after a century of the intense erosion of their Orthodox identity by political ecumenism, the Orthodox ecumenists and the so-called “official’’ Churches will regain their Orthodoxy in a single decade. Nor should we imagine that the fall of Communism, which was but one manifestation (and a political one at that) of the erosion of our Orthodox identity (let us not forget that Communism ravaged nearly the whole of the Orthodox world during the last century), has suddenly brought the national Orthodox Churches of Eastern Europe to good health. Communism befell Churches that had in many ways failed in their witness long before Marxism came forth; Communism was a punishment for sin, as our more honest and enlightened Church leaders aver. That those innocent of sin also suffered under the Communist yoke is one of the tragedies of a fallen world. But what Communism did to the spirit of the Church and her Bishops is not something that will disappear quickly either. We must, in avoiding the dangers of the right—that is, the danger of believing that our resistance movement is somehow the Church itself—, never succumb to those of the left, imagining that somehow, with the fall of Communism, all of the evil of that system, as well as the evil which spawned it, has disappeared. We must walk a middle path between these two dangers.

Now, this middle path, to bring my words into their final focus, is the very ethos of Orthodoxy, the “Royal Path’’ of the Fathers. And it is on this path, within this ethos, that we discover the one guiding light that must never wane, if we are to carry out our resistance against the attack on our Orthodox identity by political ecumenism. We must keep this beacon forever bright and see that it never dims. That beacon shines with the light of tolerance. Never, in protecting the Orthodox Faith and our Orthodox identity, above and beyond the dangers of a personal kind that I have identified, must we violate the tolerant ethos of Orthodoxy. If heretics are separated from the truth, it is our duty—our sacred duty—to treat them with kindness and love. St. Maximos the Confessor, in expressing absolute disdain for heresy and those things which defile our Faith, nonetheless dismisses as abhorrent any harm directed against heretics themselves. He clearly separates the heresy from the heretics. Our Orthodox identity and the ethos of the Faith, which is immersed in love, are intimately bound together. And in this union, there is not a single instance in which intolerance, condemnation, and the dismissal of the worth of any human being is possible. If we condemn beliefs that threaten us, we do not condemn those who adhere to those beliefs. Satan is the source of evil doctrine, and we condemn him and his minions and the poison that they spread. But those who are poisoned by Satan are not his; they are, rather, creatures of God, suffering from the deadly, soul-destroying jealousy of the Evil One.

In our struggle against ecumenism, while we should—indeed, must—condemn this assault against the self-identity of the Orthodox Christian and against the essence of the Orthodox Church itself, we must not condemn those who have fallen, either out of naivete or even because of sinful, worldly inclinations, to its lure. Rather, we must show a spirit of tolerance, such that the ecumenists do not, in their folly, imagine that we, who uphold the uniqueness of the Orthodox Church, do so with a spirit of intolerance towards other Christians or even those of different religions. After all, our outrage at the religious syncretism that accompanies contemporary ecumenism is not simply a matter of the denigration of something which we love; it is more than this. Our outrage rises out of the great sadness that befalls us when we see the criterion of Christianity, the sole answer to man’s dilemmas, auctioned off in the market of ecumenism, as though it had no value, and thus also see those who are suffering in darkness and delusion denied the sure cure for human ills that is contained within the Church of the God-Man, the Orthodox Church, the pleroma of which is united to Christ and thus restored and made new. It is the loss of potential and the denial of salvation to our fellow men that must most outrage us about ecumenism, for in being upset by these things, we are acting out of love. And when we act out of love, we act in God, Who is love.

As outrageous as the betrayals and at times hokey and simplistic platitudes of the ecumenists may be, we should not ridicule them. We should not individually and unilaterally condemn them as heretics. We should not rage and pontificate against them. In so doing, we deviate from the Royal Path, from the behaviors and ethos of the Fathers, opening up ourselves to accusations of intolerance. Nor, despite the excesses and the outright hypocrisy of political ecumenism, should we lose hope for those in the grips of its force. We must work sedulously and untiringly to see that they come to their senses. In the case of those who are misled by the false “goodness” and hypocritical love of ecumenism, as well as by its absolutist and totalitarian relativism, we must show patience, guiding them slowly and gently into an understanding of what it is that has overtaken their reason. Those who are agents of political ecumenism, who have gained from their association with it, and who hypocritically seek the world through its pseudo-religious precept—these, too, we must approach with love. We must answer their insults and slander against us anti-ecumenists, but understand, in answering them, that they are defending a sickness that has blinded them in soul and mind. Thus, while our medicine, the true teachings of the Church, may sting them, it must be applied with care, attention, and calm, soothing support, just as a physician would apply iodine to a wound: telling the patient that it will burn, helping him to endure the pain, and assuring him that the result of the application of this unpleasant agent will be the cure of an insidious infection and the eradication of the bacteria which cause it. In the words of St. John Chrysostomos, we must not “inflict wounds” but “heal them.”

If we should fail in this world to win over those who have been infected by heresy, let us then remain tolerant and loving into the next world, hoping that, if we cannot be reconciled with them here on earth, somehow by God’s mercy we will be reconciled in the other world. We must pray for those who die in heresy or under its influence. We must maintain hope for them. And even when, because they will not recant, those deadened by heresy have been condemned by the Church and cannot be the object of our public prayer, let us in our private prayers pray for them and hope for their return to God. In this vein, let us remember that the Fathers of the Third (Ecumenical Synod, when they condemned the accursed heresy of Nestorios, about whom we hear such strong statements and condemnations, nonetheless, at a personal level, did so while “shedding tears’’! Heed this phrase each time that you hear eloquent condemnations of “Nestorios the heretic’’; for this phrase reveals to us the context in which such condemnations must be placed. It tells us of the ethos of Orthodoxy: toleration that, even when it can longer endure heresy, acts strongly while “shedding tears.’’

When the world was left in darkness and the majority of humankind did not know the true God, what did God do? Did He condemn man? Did He revile those who reviled Him? No. Unable to bring mankind back to Himself, having chastised men and women— cajoling them with calamity and loving wrath—with no success, God became man, so as to lead mankind back to his lost Paradise. This He did in love, providing for our example His Only-Begotten Son, the Eternal God before the Ages. In this act, God teaches us how to reach out to those who do not know Christ and who reject Him. We must never treat them with intolerance. We must never despise them. Rather, we must pity them and show them love, even when we criticize them. St. John Chrysostomos, in referring to the Jews, for example, calls them “wretched.’’ But he does not do this because he hates them, or in a spirit of retaliation for their rejection of Christ. He does so out of pity for the wretched state in which they find themselves, bereft of God and reaping the evil benefits of having Crucified the very One Who came to redeem them. We must follow this path, pitying and decrying the wretched state of those who do not know and who reject Christ, but doing so out of love and from Christian hearts wounded by the departure of God’s own creatures from the path that He set out for them. We must never show intolerance for anyone, even if we revile the hateful doctrines and beliefs that may have separated men from God and made them, however tragically, enemies of God. To see them as anything but brothers and sisters is to insult and betray God Himself. As the Divine Chrysostomos tells us, we “converse with them gently; for nothing is stronger than gentleness and mildness.’’

Finally, the Orthodox ethos, which is rooted in tolerance, is fragile. When we violate it, and especially in the name of resistance to ecumenism, we bring down the wrath of God and the condemnation of our fellow man on ourselves. First, God, as I have said, does not countenance our usurpation of His chastising love, since our chastisement, imperfect as we are, more often than not lies in hatred and personal resentment, in ethnic prejudice and learned bigotry, and in corrupt souls. We are not capable of loving fire, which burns yet does not consume. Second, if we oppose ecumenism because it wishes to bring all men into unity with God and to foster toleration and kindness between people, or to end war and poverty where possible, then we oppose Christianity. We do not oppose these things. Rather, we affirm and teach that none of them is possible without Christ. That is our witness and our message. Nor can the political ecumenists obtain these goals by sacrificing Orthodoxy on the altar of the social Gospel. Nonetheless, the goals remain sacred. In an imperfect world, we may not attain them; but in an imperfect world, the role of the Christian is to hold them up as the ideal. It is we traditionalists who must champion toleration and love, never allowing our opposition to the fruitless and merely human efforts to attain them to take on the hue of intolerance or opposition to such high goals. Never!

In short, we must live the dogmas of the Church in love. If they should not be bartered in the ecumenical circles of religious syncretism, they also must not become dead, formal, external statements by which we elevate ourselves and denigrate those who disagree with us. Our dogmas are made in love, within the ethos of tolerance, and through the age-old passivity that derives from that love and which represents the spirit of the Fathers even in their most rash moments. Let me close my remarks with a statement by the great Greek miracle-worker of our age, St. Nektarios of Aegina, whose irenic writings are too often ignored and whose witness, though often misrepresented, evidences a truly Patristic spirit that should guide us in our resistance to ecumenism, religious syncretism, and Orthodox apostasy:

“Dogmatic differences, reduced to an issue of faith, leave the matter of love free and unchallenged; dogma does not set itself against love.... Christian love is constant, and for this reason the deformed faith of the heterodox cannot change our feelings of love towards them.... Issues of faith must in no way diminish the feeling of love.’’ I leave you, then, with an exhortation to embrace the quintessential tool of resistance: that tolerant spirit that rises out of love.

 

The Path to God

Archbishop Sergius (Korolev) of Kazan and Chistopol (+1952)     People constantly complain that life is monotonously gray, that it h...