Saturday, April 4, 2026

On Novelties in the Orthodox Faith: A Card from the Trinity-St. Sergius Lavra (1982)

Source: ROCOR's Department of Public and Foreign Relations Newsletter #40, June-July 1982.

 

 

The chancery of the Synod of Bishops has received from the U.S.S.R. a photographic card constituting a reproduction of a proclamation which has been circulated among pilgrims to the Trinity-St. Sergius Lavra by someone, apparently as an antidote to the ecumenism of the Patriarchate of Moscow.

At the top of the card are icons of the Savior, the Mother of God, St. John the Baptist, and two archangels. Its content is as follows:

Against the Introduction of Novelties in the Orthodox Faith

A Canon of the Sixth Ecumenical Council: "By divine grace we decree that the Faith which has been handed down to us shall be and remain exempt from any and every innovation and mutilation just as it has been delivered to us by those who have been both eye-witnesses and servants of the Word, the God-bearing apostles, and further by the holy and blessed fathers in Nicaea, Constantinople, Ephesus, and elsewhere". He that overturns the dogmas and canons of the holy pastors and teachers, overthrows the Church itself; without them it cannot exist (Works of the Venerable Macarius, Vol. I, p. 34). From innovations are wont to arise divers heresies and schisms, from which may Christ preserve all the Orthodoxy (the Elder Paisy Velichkovsky). Let us preserve not anything that is an innovation, but the Church's traditions which have been established for us either by Scripture or outside of the Scriptures (Seventh Ecumenical Council). From all of the above one can see that it is not permissible to introduce anything new (or to change anything). Does this not also concern the New Calendar, or the fasts, or anything else new which is opposed to the holy Orthodox Faith? Can the hierarchs or anyone else change or introduce anything new into the Orthodox Faith? As we see in other Orthodox Churches, as for example the Bulgarian Church, the Patriarch issued an epistle implementing the New Calendar, in accordance with which they began to celebrate the feasts thirteen days earlier and to violate (through this) the fasts. The Elder Paisy [writes]: "The hierarchs have not received from the Holy Spirit the authority to violate the traditions of the Apostles and the canons of the Church. It seems to me that one ought not to submit not only to bishops, but even to an angel in the case of an incorrect understanding and decree concerning the holy Orthodoxy Church " (This Elder was writing in regard to the violation of the holy fasts).

 

The Theology of the Passion of Christ in the Orthodox East and in the Heretical West

Protopresbyter Dimitrios Athanasiou | April 4, 2026

 

1. Orthodox Theology: The Passion as Victory

In Orthodox theology, the passions of Christ are interpreted primarily as victory over death and the devil, and not as punishment or expiation. As is noted in a Greek Orthodox source, “Christ willingly accepted death on the cross, because, as God who desires to save man, He had to confront also man’s greatest enemy, death.”

The Orthodox Church follows the patristic tradition that sees the Cross as a trophy of victory. John of Damascus (8th c.) proclaimed: “We venerate the Cross of Christ, by which the power of the demons and the deceit of the devil were destroyed.” Saint Athanasius of Alexandria emphasizes that “Christ’s trophy over death was the Cross,” while Maximus the Confessor notes that “by voluntarily being conquered, He conquered the one who hoped to conquer, and snatched the world from his authority.”

A central element of Orthodox theology is that Christ conquered death by death itself: “Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death” (Paschal Troparion). The Resurrection is not merely the continuation of the Passion, but its fulfillment. As is explained in the Triodion, “the Crucifixion and the Resurrection of the Lord constitute one single, indivisible act.”

Orthodox Iconography

Orthodox iconography reflects this theology: Christ on the cross is depicted as the King of Glory, not as a victim of torture. The Orthodox icon “does not present Him on the cross in a wretched bodily condition—as Western depiction does—but presents Him as the King of Glory, the One who conquers corruption and death.” Orthodox priests often point out that the Western fixation on bloody martyrdom creates “feelings of shame and guilt,” whereas the Orthodox approach focuses on freedom and redemption.

2. Western Theology: The Passion as Satisfaction of Justice

In Western theology, and especially after Saint Anselm (11th c.), the judicial/legal understanding of the cross became dominant. According to this view, Christ underwent the punishment fitting for humanity in order for divine justice to be satisfied. As is noted in a comparative study, “Western Christians see the crucified Christ as a victim undergoing divine judgment and paying the legal price for our sins.”

This theology, known as the satisfaction theory, holds that humanity had accumulated a debt toward God because of sin, and Christ repaid it with His own blood. Thomas Aquinas (13th c.) and scholastic theology reinforced this direction, seeing the Passion as a sacrifice directed chiefly toward God the Father for the propitiation of divine wrath.

Western Iconography

Western Christian art reflects this focus on martyrdom. Works such as those of Peter Paul Rubens and Matthias Grünewald present Christ in a wretched physical condition, bloodied and tortured. The film The Passion of the Christ (2004) by Mel Gibson is a characteristic example of this Western approach, which “seems to revel in the violence and blood of Christ’s punishment.”

3. Fundamental Differences

1. In Orthodox theology, the Passion is interpreted primarily as a military victory and the overthrow of tyranny. John of Damascus proclaims that “Christ’s trophy over death was the Cross,” while Maximus the Confessor notes that Christ, “by voluntarily being conquered, conquered the one who hoped to conquer, and snatched the world from his authority.” The Orthodox Church chants, “trampling down death by death,” declaring that Christ used death itself as a weapon against death.

By contrast, in Western theology, and especially after Saint Anselm (11th c.), the legal understanding of the cross became dominant. Christ is regarded as having undergone the punishment fitting for humanity in order for divine justice to be satisfied. Thomas Aquinas further developed this theory of “satisfaction,” seeing the Passion as a substitutionary sacrifice directed toward God the Father for the propitiation of divine wrath.

2. Orthodox theology adopts a medical model of salvation. Man, by subjecting himself to the evil one, “came to corruption and death,” as John of Damascus explains. Salvation consists in liberation from this bondage and in the deification of human nature. The cross is the “medicine” that heals the “wound” of sin.

In the West, the dominant model is judicial. Man is considered guilty on account of original sin and condemned to eternal punishment. The cross functions as the “payment” of the debt to divine justice, permitting the remission of the penalty. As Seraphim Rose points out, this approach risks presenting a God who is a “punisher and judge” who “sadistically demands satisfaction” through the martyrdom of His Son.

3. In the Orthodox tradition, the Passion is directed against death and the devil, as an act of liberating humanity from their tyranny. Christ, according to the Apostle Paul, “became a curse for our sake” (Gal. 3:13), that is, He confronted the curse of death that weighed upon humanity, not in order to satisfy the Father, but to abolish the power of death.

Western theology reverses this direction. The Passion is directed toward God the Father as an act of satisfying His justice. Saint Anselm held that humanity had offended the honor of God and that only the sacrifice of the God-man could restore that honor. Thomas Aquinas added the concept of “substitutionary sacrifice,” in which Christ undergoes the punishment fitting for sinners.

4. Orthodox anthropology, based on the patristic tradition, sees man after the fall as a slave of death and corruption, not as one who is guilty and owes a penalty. Death is “the last enemy” (1 Cor. 15:26) that holds humanity hostage. Salvation consists in liberation from this bondage and the restoration of nature to immortality.

In the West, especially after Saint Augustine of Hippo, the idea of ancestral guilt prevailed. Man inherits not only the consequences of Adam’s sin (mortality), but also guilt itself, thus becoming “sinful by nature.” Salvation requires primarily the remission of this guilt, which is achieved through the judicial redemption of the cross. By contrast, the East preserved the understanding of “ancestral sin” as the death and corruption that we inherit, not as legal guilt.

As Fr. Thomas Hopko explains, in Orthodox theology “the language of ‘price’ and ‘ransom’ is understood metaphorically and symbolically,” not as a legal transaction. Christ “paid the price” neither to the devil (who had acquired rights by deceit) nor to God the Father (who could not demand the punishment of His Son), but “to Reality itself,” creating the conditions for forgiveness and eternal life.

Saint Gregory the Theologian (4th c.) strongly rejects the idea that Christ’s blood was a “payment” to God the Father: “If to the Father, I ask first, how? For it was not He who was oppressing us. And secondly, on what principle did the blood of His Only-Begotten Son delight the Father, who did not even accept Isaac when he was being offered by his father, but changed the sacrifice by putting a ram in the place of the human victim?”

The difference between Orthodox and Western theology concerning the passions of Christ reflects two different soteriological perspectives: Orthodox theology sees the Passion as healing (the medical model) and victory (the military model), whereas the West sees it chiefly as judicial expiation (the legal model). Both traditions accept that Christ died for the salvation of the world, but they disagree on how this death operates soteriologically. As Seraphim Rose points out, Orthodox theology does not deny the existence of pain in the Passion, but it refuses to idealize it, seeing above it the victory of love and the abolition of death.

 

A. Primary Sources – Patristic Literature

Western Tradition

Saint Anselm of Canterbury, Cur Deus Homo (translated into Greek as Why God Became Man) – The foundational text of the theory of satisfaction.

Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica (Greek translations) – The scholastic theology of salvation as a judicial exchange.

B. Modern Greek Studies – Orthodox Theology

Archimandrite Damianos Zafeiris, The Passion and the Resurrection of Christ (Zafeiris Publications, 2008) – A contemporary theological approach to the Passion with emphasis on the liturgical experience.

Metropolitan Hierotheos Vlachos of Nafpaktos and Agiou Vlasiou, Patristic Theology and Orthodox Theology: The Church of the Holy Fathers – An analysis of the difference between Orthodox and Western soteriology.

Panagiotis Nellas, Person and Freedom – The ontological approach to the cross as the healing of human nature.

Christos Yannaras, Orthodoxy and the West in Modern Greece (Domos Publications, 1992) – A historical and theological analysis of the differences.

Fr. John S. Romanides, Original Sin (2nd ed. 1989) – A critique of Western anthropology and theology of the cross.

Georges Florovsky, Anatomy of Problems of Faith (trans. Archim. Meletios Kalamaras, Thessaloniki, 1977) – A neo-patristic synthesis and critique of Western influence.

Petros Vassiliadis, Cross and Salvation: The Soteriological Background of the Pauline Teaching on the Cross – A comparative study of the biblical and patristic tradition.

Myrtali Potamianou-Acheimastou, Visual Expressions of the Passion and Resurrection of Christ – A comparison of the Orthodox and Western iconographic tradition.

Andreas Drosos, The Passion of Christ in Folk Poetry – A folkloristic approach.

Andreas Theodorou, From the Hymnography of Holy Week – The liturgical theology of the Passion in the Orthodox Church.

Ioannis Karavidopoulos, Problems in the Synoptic Evangelists’ Narratives Concerning the Passion of Christ (Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, 1974) – A critical interpretation of the Gospel narratives.

Ioannis Karavidopoulos, The Gospel according to Mark (Interpretation of the New Testament series, Pournaras, 1988) – Theology of the Passion in Mark.

 

Greek source: https://fdathanasiou-parakatathiki.blogspot.com/2026/04/blog-post_4.html

Friday, April 3, 2026

The Ordination of a Woman as “Archbishop” in the Anglican Church and Its Ecumenical Implications

Metropolitan Klemes of Larissa and Platamon | March 21/April 3, 2026

 

 

The recent enthronement of Sarah Mullally as the first woman “Archbishop” for the “Church” of England and the worldwide Anglican Communion (March 25, 2026) constitutes an event of Ecumenical significance, which calls for comment as to its implications, especially for the ecumenists from among the Orthodox.

The issue of the ordination of women to the Priesthood never occupied the holy Orthodox Church from the time of her foundation. It was something unthinkable. Her divine teaching and tradition allowed no such room whatsoever. The institution of deaconesses, which later fell into disuse, addressed pastoral and practical reasons and did not pertain to the liturgical-specific Priesthood.

The issue arose within an Ecumenical framework, in the sphere of Protestantism, as an outgrowth of social and other factors (feminism, etc.) decades ago. Since no Sacred Tradition existed as a guiding principle, the choice to ordain women to a priesthood—devoid in any case of sacramental content and dimension—was almost something to be expected, although it further divided even the Protestants into liberals and traditionalists.

The Protestants also posed this challenge to their Orthodox partners at their Ecumenist conferences and compelled them to concern themselves with an issue that had not occupied them. It was something extraneous, serving to emphasize and prove the “benefits” of their Ecumenical commitment!

The Anglican Communion, which broke away from the Roman Catholics in the first half of the sixteenth century and is Protestantizing to a great extent, of course did not remain unaffected by this new anti-traditional trend and went so far as to ordain women to the priesthood in 1994 and then, after two decades, to proceed even to the ordination of women to the rank of bishop!

As was to be expected, this caused problems in the Ecumenical relationship with the ecumenists among the Orthodox, who nevertheless, despite their apparent protests and difficulties, in practice are led into tolerance and acceptance (in the sense of Ecumenist cooperation) of every kind of outrageous choice made by the Protestants, even by those regarded as historic, serious, and dominant.

The slide into extreme forms of choices that are morally depraved from a Christian standpoint (abortions, support for moral perversions, etc.) has become commonplace in the Ecumenist sphere during recent decades and miserably and resoundingly refutes the nonsense about a supposedly “Orthodox Witness,” purely academic and theoretical in character, offered by the ecumenists from among the Orthodox within the framework of their condemned anti-ecclesiastical venture.

And so it is that the Anglicans, long greatly esteemed by the ecumenists from among the Orthodox, have arrived at the choice and establishment of the first woman “Archbishop” of Canterbury, Sarah Mullally, 63 years old, a former nurse, married with children, whose enthronement took place in the cathedral church of Canterbury in southeastern England on March 25, 2026 (Newpost, March 26, 2026).

About 2,000 invited guests were present for the event, which is regarded as “a major turning point for British religious affairs.” They even chose for it to take place on the Feast of the Annunciation of the Theotokos according to the New Calendar, because, as they comment, “this marks the moment at which the Panagia was informed that she had been chosen to become the mother of Jesus” (Star.gr, March 26, 2026). Thus, the Anglicans gave a “spiritual and symbolic dimension” to the event of choosing a woman “Archbishop,” so that she might become their spiritual mother, their shepherd and guide!

It should be noted that the previous Anglican archbishop, Justin Welby, was forced to resign in November 2024 because of revelations that he was implicated in an old case of sexual abuse within his church.

At a particularly critical time for the Anglicans, the promotion of a woman as “Archbishop” was preferred, and her enthronement was characterized by the organizers as “a truly global gathering,” although 16 of the 42 heads of the Anglican provinces throughout the world were absent—mainly from Africa, Asia, and South America—because they did not agree with this choice (“Orthodoxos Typos,” March 30, 2026).

Nevertheless, the event had a clear Ecumenical and Interreligious character, including an “Ecumenical Covenant,” exotic dances, and so forth.

A little earlier, on January 29, 2026, when Sarah Mullally was enthroned in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London for the legal confirmation of her appointment as “Archbishop” (the Anglican Church is a “state church” with representation in the House of Lords, and the reigning Monarch of the United Kingdom is its “Supreme Governor”), the ceremony was interrupted by an Anglican priest (Paul Williamson), who publicly expressed his disagreement, thereby demonstrating the deep crisis within the Anglican world itself regarding the issue of women’s priesthood (“Union of Orthodox Journalists” [UOJ], February 2, 2026).

Already from October 2025, millions of Anglicans throughout the world expressed their protest over the appointment of Sarah Mullally as the “first woman Archbishop of Canterbury.” The serious crisis places the unity of the worldwide Anglican community in immediate danger (UOJ, October 10, 2025). By African bishops this was regarded as “apostasy” (UOJ, October 5, 2025), and also as a “destructive” choice that does not take into account “the convictions of the majority of Anglicans, who cannot accept female leadership in the episcopate” (Star.gr, March 26, 2026).

Moreover, the new “Archbishop” is a “fanatical supporter of abortion and of the LGBTQI+ agenda” (UOJ, March 28, 2026).

Yet, despite the “moral disagreements,” Pope Leo XIV of Rome congratulated the new “Archbishop” on her work of preaching Christ and wished her to have the Theotokos Mary as a source of inspiration! (ibid.)

It is worth noting here that recently the Anglicans’ first openly homosexual “Archbishop of Wales,” Cherry Vann, stated in an interview (December 2025) that some of their faithful have left their church because of her appointment, because, among other things, she seeks the acceptance of LGBTQI+ people (homosexuals and others like them); this, however, provokes strong opposition from the traditionalists in their ranks (UOJ, January 3, 2026).

***

So, while the rotten Anglican edifice is being shaken by these new tragic and sweeping developments, the ecumenists from among the Orthodox were not absent from this highly provocative enthronement. They were evidently invited and may perhaps appeal to institutional and customary obligations, but their possible justifications certainly underscore their lamentable Ecumenist dependence, which is stirred basically and chiefly not by ecclesiastical and spiritual criteria (for they loathe “confessionalism,” after all), but by worldly, social, and geopolitical ones.

Present, as can be seen in footage from the relevant video of the ceremony, which has been posted on the website of the “Church of England” (unfortunately we found no indicative photographs despite our relevant search), was Archbishop Nikitas of Thyateira and Great Britain of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, a well-known ecumenist and president of the “Conference of European Churches,” who in November 2025 presented to Pope Leo at the Vatican the new edition of the “Ecumenical Charter” [Charta Oecumenica].

Also present was Metropolitan Seraphim Kykkotis of Zimbabwe of the Patriarchate of Alexandria, who, in fact, in May 2024 ordained the first deaconess in Harare, Angelic-Phoebe Molen, already an archdeaconess, with the approval of his Patriarchate, holding that “there are no theological obstacles to the ordination of women” (Orthodoxia.info, May 26, 2024); perhaps for this reason he even appears to be making the sign of the cross with gratitude in those scenes where the new “Archbishop” is being applauded by those present during her enthronement!

 

 

Also present was Metropolitan Silouan of Britain and Ireland of the Patriarchate of Antioch, as well as other clergy of other jurisdictions in England, evidently.

Let us not forget that all these nominally Orthodox were likewise celebrating the Annunciation of the Theotokos! All together in Ecumenism, and NOT in Christ, they were wrongly JOINTLY CELEBRATING and collaborating actively or passively in something “apostate” (!) according to the characterization of those same Anglicans of Africa. What more can we humble ones say, except only to describe how matters stand and to reveal the Truth?

What makes such a great impression that one may speak of a “revelation of the Truth” is that concerning the presence of the ecumenists from among the Orthodox at this enthronement of “Archbishop” Sarah Mullally, THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO REPORT WHATSOEVER on any website on the Internet, whether ecclesiastical or secular; absolutely no mention is made on the websites of the dioceses whose bishops or clergy were present, especially those of Great Britain, nor even on those of their Patriarchates! Not even the ever-talkative Ecumenical Patriarchate, which through its primate intervenes on every conceivable matter, has presented anything relevant up to this moment. No one publicized it and no one highlighted it! Why this strange silence?

Did not the Anglicans, so dear to the ecumenists from among the Orthodox, receive their special care? Did they not, from the beginning of the past twentieth century, attach very great importance to the promotion of Ecumenical relations with them? Was it not the notorious Freemason and arch-ecumenist Patriarch Meletios Metaxakis who, in 1922, unilaterally provoked—without prior agreement of all the local Orthodox Churches, and indeed by letters and not by a Synodal decision of all Orthodoxy—the RECOGNITION of Anglican ordinations by the Patriarchate of Constantinople? Did this not lead to the similar uncritical and unacceptable RECOGNITION of Anglican ordinations by the Patriarchate of Jerusalem in 1923 and by the Church of Cyprus likewise in 1923? Was it not Meletios Metaxakis, when he also seized the Throne of Alexandria, who proceeded to the RECOGNITION of Anglican ordinations by that Patriarchate as well in 1930? And did this not, through bad imitation, lead the Patriarchate of Romania likewise to proceed to the RECOGNITION of Anglican ordinations in 1936? (see Io. Karmiris, The Third Pan-Orthodox Conference of Rhodes – § 4: The Dialogue between the Orthodox Catholic and the Anglican Church, in the journal Ekklesia, year 42, no. 1/1-1-1965, pp. 19–20).

All this means that the destroyer Meletios Metaxakis did not act with divine inspiration, but with a dark one. He had become accustomed to acting in a revolutionary manner in matters of the Church without regard for opinions and consequences. Thus he acted also in the Calendar issue and led to the tragic rupture of Orthodox joint celebration. He also decided at that time upon the CHANGE OF THE PASCHALION, but the implementation of this is being advanced in our own time by those who are indeed his worthy successors. But he also proceeded to recognize the ordinations of heretical and unbaptized persons, according to the Orthodox view of canonical exactitude. Did he not in this also leave a most evil legacy, so that his tragic successors might proceed, unilaterally and from afar, without common Synodal decision and agreement, to recognize the ordinations of unholy men with respect to the matter of Ukraine? So as to lead even to new schisms and bloodshed?

But in this way, is the God of Truth being served, or the Prince of the darkness of this age?

And by their participation in the enthronement of the new Anglican “Archbishop” in secret and under cover, the Gospel is confirmed: “And this is the judgment, that light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth the truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God” (John 3:19–21).

It is obvious that the lamentable ecumenists are in a tragic dilemma: on the one hand they are obliged to be present at the enthronement of a woman “Archbishop,” whose high priesthood they recognize (!), while on the other hand the public confession of this provokes the common religious sense and creates the most negative consequences! And what will they do when the new “Archbishop” visits them at their sees? Will they vest her with a mantia, present her with a pastoral staff, and have her sit officially in the synthronon? Will they present her with a precious engolpion? For her official visit to the Pope of Rome has already been announced within a few weeks. We hope and pray that she will soon make official visits to the historic sees of the ancient Patriarchates as well, so that “the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed”!

But if again they tell us that they did not publicize their participation in the enthronement of the new “Archbishop” because they fear scandalizing the weak and not because they act in darkness, then they wrong both themselves and their flock. They do not possess good and God-pleasing discernment, but bad and wicked discernment, because it is exceedingly selective and self-serving. Moreover, they disregard and conspicuously ignore their flock, whom they deceive and lull to sleep. For this reason, they will bear greater guilt if they do not sincerely repent and return to the holy and saving way of Orthodoxy from which they have deviated. And we speak, of course, of Orthodox Christianity that is Universal and Missionary, that is, truly Catholic, and NOT Ecumenist. Of Orthodoxy that is Prophetic and True, which calls to Repentance and Renewal, and not a false one that compromises, is altered, and loses its distinctness.

“Salt is good; but if the salt has lost its savor, with what shall it be seasoned? It is fit neither for the land nor for the dunghill; they cast it out. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear” (Luke 14:34–35).

 

Greek source:

https://imlp.gr/2026/04/03/%e1%bc%90%ce%bd%ce%b8%cf%81%cf%8c%ce%bd%ce%b9%cf%83%ce%b7-%ce%b3%cf%85%ce%bd%ce%b1%ce%af%ce%ba%ce%b1%cf%82-%e1%bc%80%cf%81%cf%87%ce%b9%ce%b5%cf%80%ce%b9%cf%83%ce%ba%cf%8c%cf%80%ce%bf%cf%85/

Thursday, April 2, 2026

Saints Anthony the Great and Athanasios the Great: Models of Mysticism and Action

by Archimandrite Sergius [Yazadzhiev, +2008]

Former Assistant Professor Faculty of Theology University of Sofia, Bulgaria

 

 

St. Anthony and St. Athanasios, on the occasion of whose commemorations (January 17 and 18, Old Style, January 30 and 31, New Style) I am writing these words, were not only contemporaries (both flourished in the mid-fourth century), but their work was carried out in the same geographical location. While St. Anthony performed his spiritual feats in the Egyptian desert, St. Athanasios was Patriarch of the main city of Egypt, Alexandria. Thus, it is not coincidental that the Holy Church has appointed two consecutive days on the Church Calendar for their commemoration. However, beyond the similarities with regard to the time and area in which they lived, the two Saints differ in several aspects: whereas St. Athanasios was highly educated and a man of erudition in both the field of theology and that of secular philosophy, St. Anthony was simple and illiterate—the former, a bearer of Patriarchal dignity, worked in metropolitan Alexandria, the latter, a common monk of ordinary rank, carried out his monastic life in the seclusion and stillness of the wilderness.

In spite of these perfunctory or trivial differences, what both Saints had in common was sanctity, the holy life which they led and which earned both of them the honorary title “Great." For, since the acquisition of the Holy Spirit and holiness are a manifestation of God, differences in appearance and conventional characteristics present no obstacle to spiritual greatness; indeed, according to the Apostle, “there are diversities of gifts, but the same spirit, and there are diversities of ministration, but the same Lord, and there are diversities of working, but the same God, Who worketh all things in all" (I Corinthians 12:4-6).

Thus, St. Anthony was by nature called by God to the meditative life. He was one of the very first, and this at an early age, to renounce the vanity of the world and thus became the founder of the most difficult of tasks: that of the life of a hermit. The ultimate aim and significance of this life was to cleanse his heart of the passions and vices that thrive in the world—not to withdraw complacently into himself, thereby, but in order to help his fellow man either by his counsel or through his miraculous prayer. The great hermit was soon joined by many people similarly seeking and longing for the genuine spiritual life. His hagiographer, none other than St. Athanasios himself, says, in connection with this: “How did this recluse in the wilderness become famous in Spain and Gaul, in Rome and Africa, were it not for God, Who knows His own people everywhere? ...And although such people wish to live in seclusion, God reveals them and they cannot ‘hide their light under a bushel'" (St. Matthew 5:15).

Not only many Christians, but Gentiles [pagans or non-Christians], too, thronged to see St. Anthony; and he helped everyone. Thus, the troparion so rightly eulogizing him reads that “by his prayers he upheld and supported the entire universe." St. Athanasios speaks about the help rendered to all by St. Anthony: “Was there anyone sad who went to him and did not come back joyful? Or angered and did not become a friend? ...Or anyone whose faith was failing and did not become stronger than before? ...Or anyone worried and was not pacified? Who went to him tormented by demons and did not recover?"

Now, what was the source of the love that St. Anthony had for his fellow man, so diverse in its manifestations that, like a father, he embraced the grief and suffering of so many? Here we must remember the classic words of St. Anthony: “I no longer fear God, because I love Him." What he means is that he gradually rose above and surpassed the status of a slave, who complies with God's will because he fears him: “The fear of Jehovah is the beginning of knowledge" (Proverbs 1:17). Beginning, like all strugglers and ascetics, with the fear of God, St. Anthony, through constant struggle against sin, attained the position of a son who does the will of his Heavenly Father, since he truly loves him and fears grieving him by his sins. Thus, the words of the Holy Apostle are demonstrated in fact: “But perfect love casteth out fear" (I St. John 4:18). This perfect love of God, which St. Anthony achieved by his spiritual feats, was the source of his constant love for his fellow man, who personified the image of God; a love which was expressed in manifold ways, according to the need of each.

But St. Anthony's zealous love for God has another, immediate expression: it was unleashed in a fiery fervency for the purity of God's truth, contained in the Orthodox Faith. The Saint's mind, purified of passions, clearly contemplated the truth of the Faith, and he flew into righteous anger whenever it was perverted by heresy. It is for this reason that when he was slandered with the accusation that he allegedly sympathized with the Arians, he “gave vent to his indignation and purposely went to Alexandria, where he denounced the Arian heresy and preached the Orthodox Faith to the people."

Thus, St. Anthony is primarily characterized as a typical hermit, who, saving his own soul, saved and yet saves the souls of so many of his fellow men; at the same time, he took a keen interest in the life of the public life of the Church, unmasking heresy and conforming and strengthening Christians in the truth of Orthodoxy.

***

As we stated above, at the same time this great Saint, Anthony the Great, flourished, there lived and worked his pious contemporary, St. Athanasios of Alexandria. His life was filled with anxiety and struggle—for which reason he is called a “Father of Orthodoxy"—, his life ostensibly differs from that of St. Anthony. As early as his childhood, he was under the fatherly care and protection of St. Alexander, Patriarch of Alexandria, who later Ordained him Deacon and appointed him his secretary. Together with his spiritual guide, St. Athanasios took an active part in the sessions of the First Ecumenical Synod in Nicaea (325). There he rendered a great service in his opposition to the Arian heresy and, in particular, in enunciating the doctrine of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity in the Symbol of the Orthodox Faith (the Creed).

Soon after the death of St. Alexander, Athanasios was unanimously elected and Consecrated Patriarch of Alexandria, being barely twenty-eight years of age. From that time forward there ensued his tireless and constant struggles with the Arian heretics, who recognized him as their greatest enemy. Therefore, using the power of certain Byzantine Emperors in their support, the Arians schemed and plotted against St. Athanasios, frequently even making attempts on his fife. As a result, he endured continuous persecution and exile for a full seventeen years—that is, for a third of his hierarchical service. Yet, in spite of all of these anxieties and horrors, he had the strength and fortitude of mind to utter the following remarkable words: “My heart is as filled with faith (reliance on God) in times of Grace as it is in times of persecution, because I firmly believe that if I die while suffering for Jesus Christ, fortified with His Grace, I shall be given greater mercy by Him."

During his travels and periods of exile, St. Athanasios did much good for people through his missionary endeavors and by firmly professing and elucidating the Orthodox Faith. St. Athanasios also visited the capital of our country (Bulgaria), then called “Sardica," and participated in the Council of Sardica in 343. The Saint's zeal for Orthodoxy fills every page of his numerous theological works, the greater part of which are characterized by their dogmatic and apologetic or defensive character. This is why the Church, in the troparion chanted in honor of the Saint, glorifies him as a “pillar of Orthodoxy, fortifying the Church and extolling Her Divine dogmas."

St. Athanasios was remarkable, preeminent among the Fathers in his instructions, writings, and activities. Must we thus conclude that such arduous activity obviated the possibility of his following the contemplative life? To state such is tantamount to repudiating all of his merits and the significance of his lifework. Though he did not have an opportunity to lead the fife of a hermit, since he was responsible for the administrative work of the Church, St. Athanasios was, generally speaking, a monastic ascetic, a recluse and hermit in the world. To this estrangement from the world he owed his purity of heart (St. Matthew 5:8) and his strong will, which enabled him to see clearly the truths of the Faith and to profess them steadfastly, without compromise, oblivious to all threats. St. Athanasios' homage to the hermits testifies to the fact that, during his periods of exile, he spent the majority of his time among the Egyptian recluses, where he felt relief from the tumultuous fife of the metropolis. He continually communicated with the desert hermits by letters and epistles which have been preserved down to present days. He paid singular honor to St. Anthony the Great, whom he gave one of his mantels, a mantel which was later used as a shroud when St. Anthony buried the first hermit monk, St. Paul of Thebes.

After St. Anthony's death, it was St. Athanasios who wrote his life, in which he so eloquently extolled the feats of the Founder of Monasticism.

 

Source: Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XVIII (2001), No. 2, pp. 18-21.

Metropolitan Anthony (Khrapovitsky): Errors of the Monarchy (1929)


 

I have had occasion to write that the calamities which befell the Dynasty and Russia were God’s retribution for their encroachments upon the Church, culminating in the mad proclamation of the Tsar as head of the Church in 1797. Then the Lord, as before the Universal Flood, said again within Himself: “My Spirit shall not forever be disregarded by men, for they are flesh; yet their days shall be one hundred and twenty years; and behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh in which is the spirit of life under heaven. Everything that is on the earth shall lose life” (Gen. 6:3, 17). Thus, exactly 120 years after 1797, the all-destroying Bolshevik revolution came. All this was foreseen by Patriarch Nikon and by the English scholar Palmer in his six-volume work on Patriarch Nikon...

It is well known that our higher hierarchy was kept very far from the Imperial Court; only on the occasion of Christmas and Pascha did it appear at Court, and then only in the persons of two metropolitans, the matter being limited to the official greeting of the Imperial Personages. Such was the case under Emperor Nicholas I, such was the case under Emperor Alexander II, and, what is even more surprising, such was the case under Alexander III as well. I myself was first granted the honor of being presented to Sovereign Nicholas II in 1906, nine years after my consecration as bishop; and on that occasion the Sovereign said to me with a smile and mild reproach: “It seems this is the first time we have met.” Pobedonostsev, who in general firmly defended the Orthodox foundations of Russian life, for some reason did not look favorably upon the appearance of hierarchs at Court...

In one thing I must confess (or boast): I have become convinced that our Russian clergy (the clergy, not the Church) are incapable of conducting ecclesiastical affairs without support from the Throne. This is something I did not think before the beginning of the revolution, but I imagined that, once freed from the Tsar’s guardianship, the Church, through her spiritual pastors, would be able to uphold the authority of the holy faith. Since 1917 I have seen that this is not so. Two hundred years of bondage of the hierarchy and clergy under the state so diminished their will and their conviction that they came to need the support of the state, lest the Church be turned into a small sect of voluntary martyrs amid an enormous mass of traitors, deceivers, lovers of money, flatterers, and slanderers. Of course, this “sect” would still have remained the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, but three-quarters of the people would have fallen away from her.

Source: Жизнеописание Блаженнейшего Антония, Митрополита Киевского и Галицкого [The Life of His Beatitude Anthony, Metropolitan of Kiev and Galicia], Vol. IX. pp. 228–230.

Online: 

https://apologet.spb.ru/ru/%D1%86%D0%B5%D1%80%D0%BA%D0%BE%D0%B2%D0%BD%D0%B0%D1%8F-%D0%B6%D0%B8%D0%B7%D0%BD%D1%8C/67-%D0%B0%D0%BA%D1%82%D1%83%D0%B0%D0%BB%D1%8C%D0%BD%D1%8B%D0%B5-%D1%82%D0%B5%D0%BC%D1%8B/1436-mitropolit-antonij-khrapovitskij-oshibki-monarkhii-mitropolit-antonij-khrapovitskij.html



St. John Maximovitch: The Nineteenth Anniversary of the Repose of His Beatitude, Metropolitan Anthony of Kiev

Eulogy delivered at Lesna Convent, July 28/August 10, 1955. [1]

 

 

This evening, nineteen years ago, Metropolitan Anthony reposed. A great hierarch not only of our century: in the life of the Church few have been the hierarchs as gifted as he, or who have given so much to the Church. His Holiness Varnava, Patriarch of Serbia, while serving in the Russian Church of the Holy Trinity, in Belgrade, said that Metropolitan Anthony was a hierarch like unto the great hierarchs of antiquity. [2]

In theological circles in Serbia, he was called the Athanasius of our time.

He spoke, having been made wise by the Holy Spirit.

His teaching on the Trinity and on the Church, which revealed Divine Truth, sounded like something novel. But this was not some new, hitherto unknown, teaching, but rather those Truths, according to which the Church lives, expressed anew, which, however, had been forgotten by many. On account of the calamities in the historical life of the Orthodox peoples, theological scholarship declined in those lands, and upon the re-establishment of scholarship and schools, they were formed according to the patterns of other confessions, and were under their influence.

His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony regenerated Orthodox Theology.

He was called Athanasius the Great. Saint Athanasius the Great is known as “The Father of Orthodoxy,” not, of course, in the sense that Orthodoxy began with him, but because he lucidly expressed Orthodox doctrine at a time when the Truth was obscured by the cunning sophistries of the human mind. Like unto him, there appeared in our day the hierarch Anthony, and in his [i.e., Saint Athanasius’] power [3] he expounded that same Truth.

Metropolitan Anthony possessed the all-encompassing heart of Saint Basil the Great. A hierarch offers up prayers for the entire Orthodox Church, and each part of Her is dear to him. Metropolitan Anthony, following the bidding of Saint Basil the Great, knew the life of each Local Church. That is why he took so very much to heart the life of each of them, why he so loved and understood them. He was an Ecumenical Hierarch in the full sense of the word.

He was the teacher and preacher of love, and many, through him, came to an awareness of love, and those who formerly had been wandering in a mist discovered themselves through faith and love.

He inaugurated a new life for the Russian schools, having indicated the educational and creative power of love, and he called upon others to abandon the dry and formal attitude toward children.

Young people, one might say, flocked to him, and when others, seeing this, inquired of His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony how, by what pedagogical method, he achieved this, he would reply that he had no method whatsoever, but in his contacts with the youth, he sought to be found in the grace of God, which enlivens the heart and draws people together.

He was a mentor of the young people, who, even upon reaching maturity, remained under his guidance. With time he became not only “the honored teacher of a multitude of monastics”, [4] but also a pastor of pastors and a hierarch of hierarchs, so many of them being from among his disciples.

Always, in all the circumstances of life, he was a persistent confessor of the Truth, which he lived, bore about, and guarded in his heart.

In exile, living for years as the guest of the Patriarch of Serbia, he preserved his inherent majestic humility and his faith and devotion to the Church. As before, he was a teacher of the Church. On one occasion His Holiness Patriarch Varnava, while present at some solemn assembly, said that, after the First World War, when the wave of modernism rushed upon the Local Churches and submerged many, in Serbia that wave broke against the lofty promontory of Metropolitan Anthony, who at that time saved the Serbian Church.

In our evil times many are submitting themselves to various influences and demands of forces alien to the Church, or even openly hostile to Her. But all those who have not submitted, who have preserved their freedom, all of them had turned to Metropolitan Anthony during his lifetime and are now following the paths indicated by him.

Always being straightforward — even from his early childhood, he looked upon all events and evaluated them from a position firmly within the Church, having an integral Orthodox world-view. And he stated that the healing of Russian society lies precisely in the adopting of an Orthodox understanding of life.

His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony clearly perceived the anti-Church currents in Russian life, and when he sensed that they might shake the foundations of Holy Rus, and the Tsarist authority which was safeguarding them, then he — twelve years before the collapse of Russia — in the Cathedral of Saint Isaac, in St. Petersburg, foretold what threatened Russia. Subsequent events fully justified his prophetic words. [5]

He never curried favor with anyone; being aware of his inexorable straightforwardness, they sometimes purposely did not invite him to sessions of the Synod. [6]

Himself being a Great Russian, he was likewise bound by ties of kinship to Little Russia, [7] and that helped him to understand and love the latter.

But, in general, he understood all the Orthodox peoples, together with their distinct forms of piety: Great Russians, Little Russians, Greeks, Serbs, and so forth — all were dear to him.

One of the concepts most precious to him was that of the unity of the Church. The one and united Church, the Body of Christ, the union in the faith and Holy Communion of many people and nations; a unity in the likeness of the Holy Trinity — this Divine Truth was the wellspring of his spiritual exultation and preaching. The life of each Church was dear to him.

When during the First World War, after severe trials, our military might began to wax strong, and the possibility of capturing Constantinople arose, the matter of how to arrange Church life there was discussed in the Synod. Metropolitan Anthony firmly pointed out that in deciding this issue it must be remembered that the Patriarch of Constantinople is the first among the hierarchs of the Orthodox Church, and by no means could any disparagement of him be permitted. At the same time, it should also be borne in mind that the annexation of Constantinople to Russia would deprive the Greeks of the hope that the latter should once again become their capital, and the Greeks would have taken that quite painfully.

At that time, it was expected that the annexation of Constantinople would open to Russia an outlet to the sea. Metropolitan Anthony said that such a plan, entailing, as it did, the humiliating of the Greeks, also contradicted the inclination of the Russian common people. The latter (i.e., the Russian people) aspire not to Constantinople, but to Jerusalem, and an outlet to the sea in that direction would be more acceptable to the people. Constantinople, however, — once the Cross has been raised on Hagia Sophia — should be handed over to the Greeks.

Jerusalem, the Holy Land, where the Lord Jesus Christ accomplished His Divine podvig of love, where the saving life in Christ began, and where, according to the prophecy of the Prophet Ezekiel, the fate of the world will be decided — thither aspires the heart of the Russian Orthodox man.

That heart was dear to His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony.

He well knew that as long as faith and a striving toward God was alive in that heart, as long as there was a consciousness that this is the one thing needful8 — then all else would be added unto it.

The Orthodox Autocratic Tsar was dear to Metropolitan Anthony precisely because the Tsar was the embodiment of the Russian people’s confession of that consciousness and their readiness to submit the life of the state to the righteousness of God: therefore, do the people submit themselves to the Tsar, because he submits to God. Vladyka Anthony loved to recall the Tsar’s prostration before God and the Church which he makes during the coronation, while the entire Church, all its members, stand. And then, in response to his submission to Christ, all in the Church make a full prostration to him.

His Beatitude Metropolitan Anthony saw in the compulsory abdication of the Tsar the abdication of Russia from such a consciousness, a rejection of her entire historical life.

Metropolitan Anthony remained true to historical Russia. Firm as granite, he remarked that no one could have forced him to cease commemorating the Tsar, if it had not been for the Tsar’s own Manifesto.

Metropolitan Anthony was not a martyr; however, he was always prepared to become a martyr. But a confessor he can undoubtedly be reckoned.

We do not know how the Lord has crowned His confessor. But for us he is the icon of meekness, a teacher of the faith, an image of one rightly dividing the word of truth. [9]

Innumerable is the multitude of people whom he raised up, instructed and strengthened, and all of them with gratitude pray for him.

Metropolitan Anthony himself would recall how Saint Tikhon of Zadonsk once beheld in a vision that in order to be saved he must ascend an exceedingly lofty ladder, and that whenever he began to grow weak, there appeared a multitude of people whom he had earlier aided spiritually, and they helped him to ascend. In this very vision the Hierarch perceived the lesson that his duty was not to abandon his pastoral service. In this vision Metropolitan Anthony more than once perceived instruction for himself too.

At first, after the Revolution, Metropolitan Anthony wished to retire to Valaam, but circumstances demanded his return to Kharkov. And then later there always arose various obstacles to his leaving his pastoral service. Finally, already in Serbia, he received authorization to settle on Mount Athos, and he decided to depart. The Russian exiles begged him to remain. He did not consent. Then the wonder-working icon of the Mother of God of the Sign was brought into his quarters as an expression of their hope and certainty that the Mother of God herself would not allow him to depart. A few days later news was received that precisely on that very day the given authorization had been revoked.

Metropolitan Anthony remained at the head of the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad, and thus began the last period of his life and of his heavy moral trials.

A number of his disciples and adherents took other paths.

It grieved him, but his deeply loving heart did not judge them. He prayed for them and called upon others to do the same.

And now, recalling his life, his great podvig, we can in truth state that those words, chanted by the Church to the Holy Apostle John the Theologian, are likewise applicable to him: “he, being filled with love, also became filled with theology.” [10]

 

NOTES

1. Pravoslavnaya Rus, No. 19, 1955, pp. 3–4. Translation by Holy Transfiguration Monastery, Boston. The paragraph divisions given here are those of the Russian text; perhaps they reflect Saint John Maximovich’s manner of delivery.

2. See also the most edifying account: “Patriarch Varnava and Metropolitan Anthony – Remembrances of a Christian Friendship”, Orthodox Life, No. 1, 1972, pp. 15–23.

3. Cf. Luke 1: 17.

4. A paraphrase of the Vespers Doxasticon for a monastic saint: “We the multitude of monastics honor thee our teacher…” This text would, of course, have been very familiar to those who had gathered at the Lesna Convent to hear Saint John speak.

5. Sermon delivered on the Sunday of the Last Judgment, February 20, 1905: “Concerning the Dread Judgment and Current Events” (Complete Collected Works, Vol. 1, p. 135.).

6. That is, the Holy Synod of pre-Revolutionary Russia.

7. I.e., Russia Minor, Ukraine.

8. Luke 10: 42.

9 .2 Tim 2: 15.

10. Vespers Doxasticon of May 8.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

Critical Thoughts on a Recent Book About the Church Calendar

by Hieromonk [Archimandrite] Patapios and Archbishop [Metropolitan] Chrysostomos of Etna

 

 

In a recently published book entitled, Netntelegerea Indreptarii Calendarului [The Misunderstanding of the Calendar Emendations], [1] Nicolae Popescu, a graduate of the Orthodox Faculty of Theology at the Ovidius University in Constanta, Romania, ardently defends what he calls the “correction” of the Julian Calendar by the Orthodox Church of Romania, when, in 1924, that body—and several other local Orthodox Churches—adopted the Papal, or so-called “New” or “Gregorian” Calendar, for the calculation of the cycle of the Church’s liturgical Feasts. (The Romanian State had already adopted the Gregorian Calendar for secular use on April 1, 1919.) Misunderstanding the calendar issue himself, the author wrongly equates the Julian Calendar with the Church Calendar, which, employing the Julian Calendar in its calculations, achieves a clever and complex arrangement of the ecclesiastical festal year around various solar and lunar events and the centrality of the Feast of Pascha. It was the scrapping of this Church Calendar—universally used in the Orthodox Church since the First Ecumenical Synod of Nicaea (325) and still used by the vast majority of Orthodox Christians worldwide—, and not a correction of the Julian Calendar, that was at the heart of the 1924 calendar reforms. It was this breach with Church tradition that also accounted for the widespread reactions against the innovation by many Orthodox clergy and believers, the “Anticalendarigtii” (or “Anti-Calendarists,” a rather vacuous epithet) and "Slilislii” (or “Stylists,” a pejorative term derived from references to Julian Calendar dates as “Old Style” dates), as the author refers to Orthodox believers who refused to adopt the Papal Calendar and who are more commonly known as “Old Calendarists.” Though an alleged defense of the calendar reform, Mr. Popescu’s book is essentially an attack against what he sees as the obstinate refusal of the Old Calendarists to accept the calendar change, ending with a list of somewhat gratuitous, crudely-crafted, ill-advised and somewhat intemperate measures that he believes ought to be taken by the “official” State Church of Romania to restore the erring Old Calendarists to the bosom of the Romanian Patriarchate.

We have no desire to call into question the author’s sincerity or his motives for writing such a book. He obviously believes very strongly that the Old Calendarists have misunderstood the reasons which led the Romanian Church to relinquish the Julian Calendar and to adopt the Gregorian (or Papal) Calendar for the Heortologion, that is, the cycle of fixed ecclesiastical Feasts, albeit retaining the formula set forth at the First Synod for calculating the date of Pascha. However, his treatment of the calendar question is marred by numerous distortions, omissions, and other inaccuracies, some of which we will endeavor to address within the confines of this brief article.

Needless to say, as Old Calendarists, we are not at all sympathetic to the ideas set forth in the present book or to its sometimes polemical approach. Nevertheless, like other Old Calendarists who espouse a moderate ecclesiology, we are not opposed in principle to an open, eirenic, and charitable debate of the issues surrounding the Church Calendar. After all, as Metropolitan Cyprian of Oropos and Fill, Chief Hierarch of the moderate Old Calendarist resisters in the Orthodox Church of Greece, points out, “the Orthodox Church today, by reason of ecumenism and the calendar innovation, is divided and in need of being united.” [2] And the very purpose of our resistance, His Eminence suggests, is to convoke a general unifying Synod, in order to enable those in error to return to right belief. When we fail to keep the prospect of such a general Synod uppermost in our minds, he notes, “quietism and an unhealthy ecclesiological introversion and self-sufficiency prevail, with all of their tragic and painful consequences on the theological, pastoral, and spiritual levels.” [3] If we are to avoid becoming introverted, we must not only endeavor to present an articulate defense of our stand against ecumenism and the calendar innovation, but must also be willing to listen to our opponents and to respond in a balanced and fair-minded way to their criticisms of us. By the same token, however, we may reasonably expect New Calendarists to display a similar balance and fairness when writing about us. Unfortunately, Mr. Popescu’s book is neither balanced nor fair, and it thus does nothing to promote a better understanding among his fellow New Calendarists of a movement which, since its inception in the 1920s, has been the object of so much vitriol, violence, and repression on the part of the powers that be, both temporal and ecclesiastical.

In the first part of the first chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu offers a reasonably competent summary of the origins of the Julian Calendar and notes its deficiencies, from an astronomical point of view. Of course, the Julian calendar, like any other calendar (and especially the Gregorian Calendar), is not absolutely perfect; but it is not as significantly flawed as proponents of the Gregorian Calendar would have us believe. In support of this point, we might adduce the high regard which the renowned German mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauss had for the Julian Calendar. Gauss, who derived the mathematical formula for the calculation of the Orthodox Paschalion, was fascinated by the antiquity and the sophistication of the Julian Calendar, which he considered to possess far greater scientific worth than the Gregorian Calendar. [4] Likewise, the eminent Russian astronomer E.A. Predtechensky has opined that, whereas the Church Calendar (which, again, rests on the Julian Calendar) “was so executed, that till now it remains unsurpassed,” the Gregorian Calendar is, by comparison, “ponderous and clumsy to such a degree, that it reminds one of a cheap print alongside an artistic depiction of the same subject.” [5]

In the second part of this chapter, furthermore, Mr. Popescu’s limitations as a historian become quite evident. According to Vasile Gheorghiu, whose book on the calculation of Pascha Mr. Popescu cites, Patriarch Jeremiah II of Constantinople wrote a letter to Pope Gregory XIII, in August of 1583, maintaining that it was impossible for the Eastern Churches to accept the Pope’s calendar reform, which had been introduced without consulting the Eastern Churches, since it might provoke misunderstanding among the Orthodox Faithful. This is an astonishing over-simplification. In fact, the major concern for the Patriarch and the Eastern Orthodox Church was the Pope’s claim that the imposition of his New Calendar was a sign of his power over time and eternity. And, indeed, this claim was also rejected by Protestants, and even the American colonies— originally settled by Protestant dissenters—did not adopt the Gregorian Calendar until the mid-eighteenth century, originally considering it an impossible acknowledgement of Papal authority. It is thus a matter of further amazement that Mr. Popescu misses Patriarch Jeremiah’s mild chastisement of the Pope’s claim to authority over time and eternity in his proposal that, to determine whether the calendar was “pleasing to God,” it be submitted to all of the Patriarchs and be implemented only “with the mutual consent of all.” [6] This appeal to Patriarchal conciliarity was not, as Popescu tries to argue, an endorsement of the reform by the Patriarch; it was, rather, a challenge to Papal prerogatives.

More to the point, Mr. Popescu performs this act of historical legerdemain in the very face of the well-known condemnations of the Gregorian Calendar that were issued when, ultimately, Patriarch Jeremiah submitted the question of calendar reform to the Eastern Patriarchs. Mr. Popescu could hardly be unaware of the very forceful language of the anathemas contained in the Sigillion signed by Patriarch Jeremiah, Patriarch Sylvester of Alexandria, and a representative of Patriarch Sophronios IV of Jerusalem at a Synod held in November of 1583 to discuss the Pope’s request that the Orthodox Church adopt his calendar. The following excerpt from the Sigillion in question makes it very clear just how antipathetic the three Patriarchs were towards the Gregorian Calendar and any notion of Papal primacy:

Again the Church of Old Rome, swayed by the proud vainglory of her astronomers, recklessly changed the most honorable decree concerning Holy Pascha, established by the 318 Holy Fathers at the First (Ecumenical Synod of Nicaea and held in great esteem by all Christians throughout the world as something inviolable… If anyone does not follow the traditions and the customs of the Church as ordained by the Seven Ecumenical Synods regarding Holy Pascha, but rather desires to follow the Gregorian Paschalion and Papist Calendar, like the atheist astronomers, contravening all of the decisions of the Holy Synods and trying to weaken and change them, let him be anathema, banished from the Church of Christ and from the assembly of Christians. You, the Orthodox and right- believing Christians, remain steadfast in what you have learned, in that into which you were bom and educated. And when it becomes necessary, shed your very blood to preserve the Faith and confession of your Fathers. Guard and protect yourselves from reformers, so that our Lord Jesus Christ might help you, and may the prayers of our Faith be with you all. Amen. [7]

Nowhere in Mr. Popescu’s discussion, in fact, is there so much as a hint of this and other clear conciliar rejections—and with adamantine resolve—of the Papal calendar. Instead, he merely notes, rather lamely, that “the Patriarch of Constantinople affirmed that the Eastern Church would abide for the time being by the rules for calculating Pascha that had been in use up until then.” [8] He makes absolutely no mention, moreover, of the two Synods convened by Patriarch Jeremiah in 1587 and 1593 in order to reaffirm this earlier decisive rejection of the Gregorian Calendar by the Orthodox Church. In 1587, for example, “the correction of the calendar was condemned as being perilous and unnecessary,” [9] while in 1593, no fewer than four Patriarchs—Jeremiah of Constantinople, Joachim VI of Antioch, Sophronios of Jerusalem, and Meletios (Pegas) I of Alexandria—condemned the reformed calendar, declaring that anyone found violating the prescriptions of the traditional Orthodox Paschalion be “excommunicated and rejected from the Church of Christ.” [10] It is, once again, hard to believe that Mr. Popescu, in his study of the calendar reform, was unaware of these very staunch repudiations of the Papal calendar by no less than three pan-Orthodox Synods. Thus, his insistence that the Orthodox Church “was aware of the need to correct the calendar,” [11] rings quite untrue. So, too, does his baseless claim that the Church was unable to implement this change because, inter alia, it was impossible to convene a pan-Orthodox Synod under the Turkish Yoke!

Mr. Popescu goes on naively to enlist, among supposedly pious and serious Orthodox supporters of the reform of the Church Calendar, such figures as Nicephoros Gregoras, an unrelenting opponent of St. Gregory Palamas, who was kept under house arrest in a monastery, for several years, after refusing to accept the vindication of St. Gregory by the pro-Palamite Synod of 1351; [12] George Gemistos Plethon, die eccentric Byzantine humanist who advocated a return to pagan Greek polytheism; and, incredibly and astoundingly enough (if we have understood Mr. Popescu aright), St. Nicodemos the Hagiorite. One is left bewildered enough at his placement of St. Nicodemos in such ignominious company; but does he actually believe that St. Nicodemos favored the correction of the calendar? Did he fail to read the very sources which he cites? It is true, as Mr. Popescu asserts, that in the Pedalion (the Rudder, or collection of Church Canons) St. Nicodemos “noted that the equinox of the Julian Calendar was now lagging behind the celestial calendar by twelve days.” [13] However, he makes this observation in the following context:

Let [the Latins] know that the Ecumenical Synods held after the First Synod, and the rest of the Fathers, wise as they were, could see, of  course, that the equinox had deviated a great deal [from where it was previously]; nevertheless, they did not wish to change its position from March 21, where the First Synod found it, because they preferred the agreement and union of the Church to accuracy in the matter of the equinox, which causes no confusion in fixing the date of our Pascha, nor any harm to piety. [14]

In the light of this citation in context, it is wholly disingenuous for Mr. Popescu to insinuate that St. Nicodemos believed that it was necessary to alter the Church Calendar. In like manner, he fails to note that all of the sources to whom he attributes a desire for calendar reform (e.g., the monk Isaacios and the Canonist Matthew Blastaris) were simply ignored by the Church. They were outside the ecclesiastical consensus and did not express the conscience of the Church.

Continuing his “historical” case for Orthodox sympathy for calendar reform, the author informs us that, during the years 1863-1864, the Romanian Prince Alexandra Cuza attempted to revise the Church Calendar. This is quite true, but to be more specific and accurate, the Prince

convoked a Church Synod, at which he recommended that the Romanian Orthodox Church change from the Julian Calendar to the Gregorian Calendar. Also present at this Synod was St. Calinic of Cernica (1787- 1868), one of the most dauntless stragglers for the triumph of the truth and for the preservation of the True Faith. He was categorically opposed to the calendar innovation and exclaimed as he was leaving the hall in which the Synod was meeting: ‘I will not be reckoned with transgressors!’ Thus, the Prince did not succeed in implementing this recommendation, which had been imposed on him by Freemasons. [15]

This is not a ringing endorsement for the author’s vision of a Church pining for a reform of its Church Calendar. Equally questionable is the force of his claim that, after 1900, many Orthodox Hierarchs and academics demanded that the Church Calendar be corrected—without telling us, incidentally, who these Hierarchs and academics were. The facts, it seems, make for quite a different scenario. For example, in 1902, the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Constantinople rejected a memorandum from the Greek mathematician, Epaminondas Polydoris, concerning calendar revision; in 1903, the Jerusalem Patriarchate maintained that any attempt to alter the Church Calendar would be to the detriment of Orthodoxy; and, in the same year, the Romanian Patriarchate declared that it was impossible to change the calendar without violating the Canons of the Church. [16]

In the first paragraph of the second chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu refers to what he calls the “sinod interortodox” (“inter-Orthodox Synod”) convened in Constantinople in 1923, which approved the “correction” of the Julian Calendar. Two pages later, with greater accuracy, he calls this meeting a “congres” (“congress”), and elsewhere he terms it a “conferima” or “consfatuire” (“conference”). To his credit, he also admits that the 1923 congress did not have the authority of an Ecumenical Synod, or even a pan-Orthodox Council, and that it was not representative of all the autocephalous Orthodox Churches. [17] The second chapter is in general, therefore, reasonably objective and much less marred by snide polemics against the Old Calendarists.

However, we must on two counts take Mr. Popescu to task for his comments in this chapter. First, like many other apologists for the New Calendar, he argues that the Romanian Patriarchate did not adopt the Gregorian Calendar—“as some enemies of the corrected calendar simplistically say” [18]—but rather “recommended all of the Orthodox Churches to correct the Old Calendar by a new method, and one much better than that used for the Gregorian reform.” [19] This specious argument is clearly refuted by Hieromonk Cassian in his important treatise, A Scientific Examination of the Orthodox Church Calendar. Patriarch Meletios (Metaxakis) sought to allay the qualms expressed by Patriarch Damianos of Jerusalem, who immediately perceived that the so-called “Revised Julian Calendar” was nothing other than the Gregorian Calendar in disguise, with arguments that show his absolute ignorance of matters astronomical. As Father Cassian justly observes, Patriarch Meletios deliberately omitted to mention that “the ‘New [that is, “Revised”] Julian’ Calendar fully coincides with the Gregorian Calendar until 2800, when, admittedly, a difference of one day will occur in leap years.” However, this temporary difference “will disappear in 2900, when, once again, the two calendars will fully coincide.” [20] In other words, those who introduced the New Calendar were engaging in a form of astronomical legerdemain in claiming that they had simply “corrected” the Julian Calendar. They had, in fact, created a veritable mongrel by combining the Orthodox Paschalion with the Gregorian reckoning for the festal calendar.

Secondly, in his brief reference to the meeting of inter-Orthodox representatives commissioned to prepare the agenda for a new Ecumenical Synod—held in June of 1930 at the Vatopedi Monastery on Mount Athos—, Mr. Popescu leaves the impression that this meeting was sympathetic to the calendar reform. This is not so. St. Nikolai (Velimirovic) of Ohrid, for one, warned that the Serbian Orthodox Church would boycott the meeting “unless it was assured that the inter-Orthodox commission would have nothing in common with the ‘Pan-Orthodox’ Congress at Constantinople, which adopted resolutions concerning the calendar change. ‘If this condition is not met, the Serbs will condemn the Ecumenical Patriarchate.’” [21] Moreover, the representatives of the Polish and Serbian Churches attending this meeting refrained from worshipping with delegates from those Churches which had adopted the New Calendar, on grounds that the latter were essentially schismatics. From this we can see that it was not only the Old Calendarist resisters, but also prominent figures in what would nowadays be called the “official” Orthodox Churches, who objected to the calendar change well into the past century.

In the third chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu abandons any objectivity that might have survived his historical errors and misrepresentations; unfortunately, in this chapter he gives way to blatant revisionism. After extolling the Orthodox Church as a powerful source of spiritual support for the Romanian nation and a treasury of culture and education for the people, Mr. Popescu assures us that the pre-Communist Romanian State guaranteed freedom of religion and legal protection to all faiths, as long as their exercise thereof did not infringe on public order, good morals, or the laws of the land. Thus, he argues a priori that the Romanian Old Calendarists were not, when their movement first began to gain momentum, persecuted, except, of course, to the extent that they violated social order, behaved immorally, or become transgressors of the secular legal system. (It should be noted that the author conducted not an iota of original research for this section, but based his remarks on a book—by one Constantin Vulpescu, a public prosecutor commenting on the first few years of the Old Calendarist resistance—entitled The Error of the Old Calendarists [22]) In an array of grandiloquent outbursts about the alleged maleactions of the Old Calendarists, Mr. Popescu attributes their persecution wholly to unscrupulous agitators who, using freedom of conscience as a pretext, took advantage of weak laws meant to protect their religious freedom to stir up trouble, thereby making of the Patriarchate a laughingstock.

In the frenzied abuse of their rights as Romanian citizens, we are led to believe, the Old Calendarists attacked the “official” Romanian Church with impunity. They published spiritually poisonous attacks, hinging mud and filth at the State Church. Covering themselves under the protection of secular law, they circulated their tracts and books freely. And indeed, they had the audacity to claim that they were Orthodox Christians. The “Stylist” agitators, we read, erected churches without official authorization and for no reasonable purpose; and when these illegal churches were closed, they would commit outrages and insult and rebel against the authorities. People who were previously indifferent to religion were transformed into fanatics through the malign influence of the Old Calendarists, who, according to Mr. Popescu, were not only troublemakers and mudslingers, but also—as incredible as his language may seem to a reasonable person—scoundrels, idiots, mentally ill, crazy, and individuals devoid of faith and culture. It is difficult to believe that anyone with a modicum of civility would resort to such a farrago of accusations or so disingenuously whitewash the horrendous persecution of the Romanian Old Calendarists, which has gone on in various forms for more than seven decades. [23] In response, we will simply cite but two of hundreds of such examples of the persecution unleashed against the Romanian Old Calendarists in the 1930s, during the very period which Mr. Vulpescu, whose work Popescu uses as his sole source, was purportedly describing:

[First, in 1936,] ... the commune of Radascni, Suceava County, was surrounded by several battalions of gendarmes brought all the way from Cernauti, Cernauti County. These gendarmes blocked all of the access roads to the village and gathered most of its inhabitants into the City Hall. Those found to be on the New Calendar were ordered to go home. The Old Calendarist Faithful were advised to change to the New Calendar if they wanted to return home. When they refused to comply, the police took all of the men to the local school, where they were stripped and told to lie on the floor. They were savagely clubbed, and some of them suffered for the rest of their lives from the wounds they received. The women and the youngsters, who remained in the City Hall and stood fast in their confession of the True Faith, were forced to ran between two rows of gendarmes who beat them ferociously with clubs. These violent actions had a twofold purpose. The authorities attempted, on the one hand, to force the clergy and Faithful to switch to the New Calendar out of fear, and, on the other hand, to limit their resistance by the destruction of their Churches. For example, the church of Radaseni was dismantled and moved to another locality, where it was used as a New Calendar church. [24]

[Secondly, in Brusturi, in 1935,] ... [i]n order to prevent its pillage or burning, the [Old Calendar] Church was guarded at night by Petre V. Ignat, then thirty years of age. Likewise, all of the Faithful who lived in the village were ready to intervene if the need arose. The New Calendarist Priest was not only dissatisfied with this status quo, but even wanted to destroy the Church by any means, regardless of what it would take. He organized, with the help of the Gendarmerie and the principals of the local schools, Sturza from Brusturi and Dumitrescu from Grosi, a gang that, dressed as gendarmes, jumped over the fence during the night and beat Petre Ignat, who was guarding the Church. He was saved by the intervention of another believer who saw the attack and sounded the alarm bell. When the people gathered, one of the gang fired several pistol shots to enable all of the assailants to withdraw. A few days later, the commune was taken by surprise and surrounded by an enormous number of gendarmes armed with rifles and machine guns, and all of the access roads in and out of the area were blocked. At nine o’clock in the morning, the gendarmes entered the locality and forced the inhabitants to go to their post, where they were kept under close guard. In addition, Father Vasile Lupescu, the New Calendarist Priest, was at the entrance gate. The gendarmes confiscated Church books from the pockets of the Faithful and other items found on their persons after a body search. The Faithful were warned to renounce their beliefs, but they stood their ground. The gendarmes then took ten people at a time (men or women) into a room, forced them lie face down, and savagely beat them with cudgels so severely that blood gushed through their clothing. ...The same question was repeated over and over again: ‘Are you still keeping the Old Calendar?’ Among those brutally beaten were the parents of Archimandrite Timotei of the Slatioara Monastery. [25]

In the second part of the third chapter of his book, Mr. Popescu enumerates what he perceives to be violations of Church Canons by the Old Calendarists, who have, oddly enough, always prided themselves—and quite rightly so—on their strict adherence to these same Canons. We will not attempt to refute all of these allegations of canonical infractions, for the simple reason that not one of them has any relevance to the situation faced by the Old Calendarists. However, in the interest of truth and honesty, we must deal with five of these allegations. In the first place, Mr.  Popescu asserts, without any evidence whatsoever, that the Old Calendarist clergy serve the Divine Liturgy using Antimensia (a cloth, into which sacred Relics have been sewn, upon which the Divine Liturgy is celebrated) not given to them with the blessing of the local Bishop, and that in other cases they even use stolen Antimensia. This, in his opinion, constitutes a violation of the Seventy-Third Apostolic Canon. In actuality, this Canon states that no one should ever appropriate for his own use any gold or silver vessel, or any cloth, that has been blessed for Church usage. According to St. Nicodemos the Hagiorite and other canonical commentators, this Canon is meant to prohibit the promiscuous (that is, profane) use of sacred things. He illustrates this by citing the example of King Baltasar, who used the sacred vessels seized by his father, Nabuchodonosor, from the Temple of Jerusalem for a banquet. [26] Quite obviously, even if the Old Calendarist Priests had stolen Antimensia from New Calendar Churches—for which there is not a single shred of evidence—they would not have been using them, like Baltasar, for profane purposes.

Secondly, Mr. Popescu cites numerous Canons pertaining to clergy who, having shown contempt for their Bishops and thus having excommunicated themselves from the Church, proceed nonetheless to form their own congregations and set up their own altars, in defiance of the local Bishop. [27] None of these Canons has any application at all to those traditionalist clergy who opposed the uncanonical imposition of the New Calendar. All of these clergymen were deposed in a spirit of revenge for objecting to an innovation which introduced discord and division into the body of the Church. The Canons that Mr. Popescu cites are directed against Priests who separate themselves from communion with their Bishops for purely personal reasons or for purposes of self-aggrandizement. More to the point, we might note that the Canons enjoining obedience to one’s Bishop always presuppose that the Bishop in question is right-believing. A Bishop who openly preaches heresy or introduces innovations such as the New Calendar, which provoke confusion and division among the Faithful, is no longer a properly-functioning Orthodox Hierarch and is, therefore, not entitled to demand obedience from the members of his flock.

Thirdly, Mr. Popescu asserts that Old Calendarists do not have Priests to celebrate services for them. He evidently means by this curious, if provocative and rather presumptuous, remark that, since they are, in his eyes, schismatics, their clergy are mere laymen masquerading as Priests. He then goes on to claim that they permit non-Ordained monks and laymen to perform Baptisms and funerals and to hear confessions. This is simple poppycock and an artless retreat into cheap ridicule and slander. Using the Church Canons to adorn his loutish charges, Mr. Popescu adduces, of all things, the Fifteenth Canon of the First-Second Synod (861) to support his view. There is, as any canonical scholar knows, no reference anywhere in the text of this Canon to illicit lay celebrations of Divine services. In fact, this Canon is the very locus classicus of lawful resistance to theological error and the kind of resistance undertaken by the Old Calendarists; indeed, it asserts that those who wall themselves off from a Bishop who teaches false doctrine “have not sundered the unity of the Church through schism, but, on the contrary, have been sedulous to rescue the Church from schisms and divisions.” [28]

Fourthly, Mr. Popescu berates the Old Calendarists for their belief that the Fathers of the First Ecumenical Synod devised a Paschalion in perpetuity—which, of course, they did—and goes on to argue, on the assumption that the proceedings of the Synod have been completely lost, that there is no evidence that the First Synod issued any regulation concerning the date of Pascha. This is an inane position, given the fact that the Orthodox Church has, in fact, accepted the pronouncements of this Synod in calculating the date of Pascha to this day—including, of course, the New Calendarists, who, even in reforming their Church’s Festal Calendar, have not abandoned Her traditional Paschalion. Mr. Popescu is also evidently unaware—a curious lapse for a student of theology—that proceedings of the Synod of Nicaea are, in fact, preserved in the Ecclesiastical History of Gelasios of Cyzicus. [29]

Fifthly and finally, Mr. Popescu claims that the chief founder and inspirer of the Old Calendar Church of Romania, Hieromonk (later Metropolitan) Glicherie and his co-ascetic, Hierodeacon David, along with ten other monks, were “expelled from monasticism” [30] by the Metropolis of Moldavia in April of 1931, and that, by virtue of this “deposition.” were deprived of the canonical right to celebrate the Divine Liturgy or any other Church services. This is absurd, since a monk cannot be “deposed” from the monastic state, though this fact is little understood by modernist Churchmen. Mr. Popescu also fails to explain what bearing this putative expulsion from monasticism has on someone’s right to exercise his Priestly faculties. Moreover, as St. Maximos the Confessor explains in his commentary on the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of St. Dionysios the Areopagite, “If a Hierarch excommunicates anyone contrary to God’s purpose, Divine judgment does not come upon that person; for the Hierarch ought to apply these measures in accordance with Divine judgment and not in accordance with his own will.” [31] In other words, depositions issued in a spirit of malice and pettiness, for political reasons, or for the purpose of revenge and merely making some point, have no binding force.

The final chapter of Mr. Popescu’s agonistic volume contains some recommendations, primarily for New Calendar Priests in Romania, on how to “enlighten” the misguided “Stylists.” Much to his credit, the author makes some rather civil comments in this chapter, in contrast to his odiously crude and sometimes pantagruelian remarks in the foregoing chapter. Among other things, Mr. Popescu suggests that New Calendar Priests comport themselves in a morally irreproachable manner, so as to avoid furnishing Old Calendarists with additional pretexts for remaining separated from the official Church. In essence, he suggests that Patriarchal clergy employ the “velvet glove” rather than the “iron fist,” when dealing with Old Calendarists. This would certainly constitute an improvement over the policies pursued by the Romanian Patriarchate and State in the 1930s and subsequently. He also proposes that New Calendar clergy engage in eirenic public debates with representatives of the Old Calendar movement and that the “correction” of the Church Calendar be clearly explained in religion classes at the nation’s schools. In fact, the Romanian Patriarchate has assiduously avoided such confrontations and would no doubt avoid an objective consideration of the Old Calendar in public schools, since the issue, as we have pointed out, is not quite as Mr. Popescu and others have claimed.

Indeed, in any open forum with competent representatives of both the Old Calendar and New Calendar factions of the Romanian and other local Churches, the calendar issue would emerge as something far more significant than most would think. Much in the same way that the Iconoclasts mocked the Iconodules, in the eighth and ninth centuries, for believing that Icons were an integral part of Holy Tradition, so Old Calendarists are mocked, today, for “worshipping a calendar” or attributing “dogmatic significance” to mere days. Yet, just as when the matter of Iconoclasm was carefully examined by the whole Church, it proved to be an issue of immense moment, so the calendar issue, when examined in a careful and intelligent manner, rises to a level of critical importance. The following quotation brings that fact into focus:

Concerning this question, Father Paul, a monk of the Holy Sepulchre, remarked most justly that a board, before it has the countenance of our Saviour portrayed upon it, is but a common piece of wood which we may bum up or destroy. From the moment, however, that we paint the Icon of Christ, the King of All, upon it, this wood becomes sanctified and a source of sanctification for us, even though the wood be of inferior quality. Likewise, the solar calendar, insofar as it is a calendar of days and months is, in itself, nothing to be esteemed. But from the moment when the Holy Church placed Her seal upon it and organized Her life upon this foundation, even though it has become astronomically erroneous, still it remains holy! The calendar is no longer Julian, but ecclesiastical, just as the board is no longer a simple piece of wood but an Icon. [32]

Indeed, it is further clear that the traditional Church Calendar is so intimately bound up with the liturgical life of the Church—and, in particular, with the Typikon, or the rules and rubrics governing the Church’s worship services—, that when the New Calendar was introduced it gave rise to numerous liturgical anomalies. For example, even the somewhat innovative revised Typikon of the Great Church (of Constantinople), compiled by George Violakis and published in 1888, provides rules for combining the Feasts of Pascha and the Annunciation (Kyriopascha). Yet, this “unique concelebration of salvific events” [33] is altogether precluded by the New Calendar. Likewise, the Feast of the Forty Holy Martyrs of Sebaste can fall, according to the New Calendar, as early as the Tuesday of the Week of the Prodigal Son, and so New Calendarists find themselves chanting the following hymn while partaking of non-fasting fare: “O Prize-winners of Christ, ye have rendered the most honorable Fast more radiant through the commemoration of your glorious suffering; for, being Forty in number, ye sanctify the forty days of Lent, through your own suffering for the sake of Christ emulating His saving Passion.” [34] Finally, there are certain years in which the Apostles’ Fast is simply eliminated, if one adheres to the New Calendar. In 1983, for example, die Bulgarian New Calendarists celebrated the Apostles’ Fast by fasting for one day during the week after Pentecost, when fasting is actually prohibited by the Typikon. [35]

Again, in an open forum, where the Old Calendarists may objectively confront the vacuous polemics of critics such as Mr. Popescu, no reasonable individual could argue that the Church Calendar is not a part of Holy Tradition; that the New Calendar has not introduced confusion into the liturgical life of the Church; or that the calendar reform is, in fact, anything but an ill-conceived innovation. Thus, in response to the claim, in the preface of this volume, by the late Deacon Father Petra David (a rabid critic of the Romanian Old Calendarists [36]), to the effect that the author has succeeded in clarifying the situation created by the calendar change, we would say just the opposite: he has obfuscated the issue and misrepresented myriad facts. Father David’s hope that the author will produce other works “in the realm of learning and truth” we can only confront with our sincere hope that, for the sake of accuracy, he does not do so in the realm of theology or Church history. Mr. Popescu being, as we are told in this book, a student in the Law Faculty at the University of Constanta, we, on our part, strongly urge him to pursue a legal career and to leave the task of writing theology to those who are not only better qualified than he, but who are also perhaps a bit more disinterested and less rectitudinous in their approach to ecclesiastical matters.

 

Notes

1. Constanta: Europolis, 2002. Unfortunately, this at times odiously polemical book claims an imprimatur from the New Calendar Romanian Orthodox Church.

2. The Heresy of Ecumenism and the Patristic Stand of the Orthodox, tr. Archbishop Chrysostomos of Etna and Hieromonk Patapios (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1998), p. 44.

3. Ibid., p. 50.

4. Hieromonk Cassian, A Scientific Examination of the Orthodox Church Calendar, ed. Archbishop Chrysostomos of Etna and Hieromonk Gregory (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1998), pp. 73-74.

5. Church Chronology and a Critical Review of the Existing Rules for Determining Pascha [in Russian] (St. Petersburg: 1892), pp. 3-4. Cited in Ludmila Perepiolkina, “The Julian Calendar: A Thousand-Year Icon of Time in Russia,” tr. Daniel Olson, Orthodox Life, Vol. XLV, No. 5 (September-October 1995), p. 14.

6. Nofiuni de Cronologie fi Calcul Pascal (Bucharest: Editura Cartilor, 1936), p. 59, cited in Neintelegerea, p. 22.

7. Cited in Constantin Bujor, Resisting Unto Blood: Sixty-Five Years of Persecution of the True (Old Calendar) Orthodox Church of Romania (October 1924-Decetnber 1989), tr. Deacon Father loan Comanescu (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 2003), pp. 36-37.

8. Neintelegerea, p. 22.

9. Father Basile Sakkas, The Calendar Question, tr. Holy Transfiguration Monastery (Jordanville, NY: Floly Trinity Monastery, 1973), p. 23.

10. Ibid., p. 24.

11. Neintelegerea, p. 23.

12. Curiously enough, Mr. Popescu calls him “one of the great Patrologists.”

13. Neintelegerea, p. 23.

14. The Rudder, tr. D. Cummings (Chicago: Orthodox Christian Educational Society, 1957), p. 10 [We have made some slight terminological amendments to this translation, based on the Greek original].

15. Resisting Unto Blood, p. 10.

16. Cited in Sakkas, The Calendar Question, p. 26.

17. Neintelegerea, pp. 28-29.

18. Neintelegerea, p. 27.

19. Neintelegerea, pp. 27-28.

20. Scientific Examination, p. 54.

21. Bishop Photii of Triaditza, The Road to Apostasy: Significant Essays on Ecumenism (Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1995), p. 35.

22. Ratacire Calendaristica (n.p.: Editura Mitropoliei Moldovei, 1935).

23. See a full recounting of this persecution in Constantin Bujor, 65 de Ani de Persecute a Bisericii Ortodoxe Romane de Stil Vechi: Octombrie 1924-Decembrie 1989 (Slatioara: Editura “Schimbarea la Fata,” 1999).

24. Resisting Unto Blood, p. 64.

25. Ibid., pp. 68-69.

26. The Rudder, p. 131; Daniel 5:1-4.

27. E.g., the Thirty-First Apostolic Canon, the Fifth Canon of the Synod of Antioch, and the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Canons of the First-Second Synod.

28. The Rudder, p. 471.

29. Book 11, ch. 37, §13. See also Socrates, Ecclesiastical History, Book I, ch. 9 (Patrologia Grceca, Vol. LXVII, cols. 81B-84A), and the excellent article by Archimandrite Sergius, “The First Ecumenical Synod and the Feast of Pascha,” Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XIV, Nos. 2-3 (1997), pp. 2-8.

30. Neintelegerea, p. 42.

31. Patrologia Grceca, Vol. IV, col. 18IB.

32. Sakkas, The Calendar Question, p. 11.

33. Scientific Examination, p. 116.

34. March 9, Matins, Doxastikon at the Praises.

35. Scientific Examination, p. 132.

36. See Archbishop Chrysostomos, “An Orthodox Auto-da-Fe: Critical Comments on a Recent Book on Sects,” Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XX, No. 1 (2003), pp. 5-20. Also in Romanian, “Un Autodafe Ortodox,” tr. Ioana Ieronim, Dilema, XI (2003), nrs. 522, 523, & 524.

 

Source: Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XXI (2004), No. 2, pp. 14-26.

On Novelties in the Orthodox Faith: A Card from the Trinity-St. Sergius Lavra (1982)

Source: ROCOR's Department of Public and Foreign Relations Newsletter #40, June-July 1982.     The chancery of the Synod of Bis...