Jack Turner, Ph.D.
Source: The Canadian Journal of
Orthodox Christianity, Volume V, No. 3, Fall 2010, pp. 107-125. Typos
corrected.
Necessity is the mother of
invention, or so the saying goes. Directly stated, one’s creativity is pressed
into service out of serious need or duress, and in moments of struggle one can
be eminently imaginative in devising a solution the present quandary. More abstractly
the old maxim could be understood as meaning one does not invent something new
unless one has a want. In discussions on the validity of Western Rite
Orthodoxy, it is commonly asked whether the Orthodox Church needs a Western
rite, for any number of purposes, including effective evangelization of
non-Orthodox Christians, demonstration of Orthodoxy’s catholicity, and demonstration
of a living Western memory, among other possibilities. [1] In other words, is
the Western rite necessary? If did not exist, would we wind up inventing it?
The response that Orthodoxy does
not need a Western rite is obvious enough at first since it is categorically
true: Orthodoxy does not need a Western rite because she simply does not. The
problem is not so much in the statement itself, which is indeed so obvious as
to be a truism, but in the underlying assumption that are left unspoken, and
that is where the deep significance of this objection lies. We can identify at
least three unspoken predications to the statement: because the Eastern rite is
innately superior to the Western rite in transmitting Orthodoxy; because the
West is heretical and therefore the Western rite is automatically heretical;
and because the ethos of the West is opposed to Orthodoxy. Each of these
rationales have their own underlying assumptions about the nature of Orthodoxy,
the West, and the role of culture in the Church. What brings all three elements
together under a single heading is that they share a common feature, what
Andrew Sopko refers to as “psychological negativism, an unhealthy by-product of
the cultural superiority which Byzantium did indeed once possess over the West
for many centuries but eventually lost.” [2]
The “otherness” of the Eastern
rite to Western Christians has been cited previously as a justification for the
existence of a Western rite. [3] The argument posits that, because the Eastern
rite represents a culture which is entirely beyond the cultural experience of
most Westerners, it is likely to be a barrier to a conversion rather than an aid.
In this regard, critics of the Western rite argue that those who prefer a
Western rite should be content with an Eastern rite because the nature of the
Church itself is Eastern rather than Western.
Chrysostomos Stratman is
representative when he states that “[the Orthodox Church’s] Oriental spirit, or
Gospel spirit, to use an equivalent expression, is not a development. It was
there all the time. It was in the East that the Gospel of truth arose…and it is
the same East which has always been the source of its true traditions and spirit.”
[4] This itself is little more than a vestigial manifestation of the assumed
cultural superiority of Greek culture over and against Latin culture, one which
itself not only contributed to the Great Schism, but further served as a
barrier to reconciliation between the two sides historically, and this in
addition to the very real dogmatic disagreements which are, themselves, the
product of two alienated cultures. The claim that Western Christians should be
satisfied with the Eastern rite because Christianity is Eastern, because Jesus
and his Apostles were Eastern, is itself a confusion of the issue brought about
by woolly-headed thinking. In one sense, these critics are correct in that,
from the perspective of the Rome at the time of the Early Church, Jesus and his
Apostles and his teachings were Eastern because they originated in a cultural
milieu of the Eastern portion of the Roman Empire. The same basic truth can be
said of the liturgy of the Churches of the Eastern portion of the former Roman
Empire.
But there is a problem in
assuming that there is any such thing as a monolithic “Eastern” context.
Certainly, the Eastern rite is “Eastern,” but to be more precise, it is Greek
and to be even more specific, it is Byzantine rather than Attic. Attic Greek
culture, the culture of ancient Athens, is the culture of Socrates and Plato
which imparts its influence to all of Europe, East and West, including the Byzantine
Empire. However, while Byzantine culture absorbs Greco-Attic culture, it is
nevertheless distinct from it, for it is a specific synthesis of the
Greco-Attic with a reinterpretation of Roman culture and Chalcedonian
Christology. This is the cultural context of the Eastern rite, and thus it is
properly the Eastern rite, because it is specifically born of the cultural
synthesis that took place in Constantinople rather than Athens. By contrast,
“the West” is the result of a synthesis of Roman and Germano-Frankish. The
Roman culture would consist of the elements found in the Italian peninsula and
transmitted in Latin while the Germano-Frankish element is an adaptation of the
Roman elements with learning that occurs during the Carolingian renaissance.
For those who would contend that Socrates is just as much the cultural
inheritance of the West as it is of the East, it is worthwhile to remember that
Greek culture was largely lost to the West until the Renaissance, when it was
rediscovered and celebrated by humanists in their mistaken belief that this was
the true cultural foundation of European civilization.
While it is true that Jesus and
his Apostles are Eastern in the same basic sense of Greek civilization, in that
it lies east of Rome, that is hardly the most specific description. A more
specific description would be that Jesus and his Apostles are Semitic in
culture, and to be more precise, are of the Palestinian Jewish variety of
Western Semitic culture. There is a distinction between Palestinian Jewishness
and Greco-Attic or even Byzantine culture. This distinction is addressed in the
fact that there was conflict between Hellenistic Jews (those who had absorbed
elements of Greco-Attic culture) and Palestinian Jews, and this is a conflict
which is made itself manifest in the very first years of the Church, as the
biblical material attests in Acts 3. Thus, the Christian message of the Gospel,
which arises in the Palestinian Jewish culture of Jesus and the Twelve (not to
mention the majority of the scriptures that constitute the Old Testament),
needs to be “translated” into something comprehensible to the prevailing Greek and
Latin cultures of the era. This is a process we can see going on even in the
time of the Apostle Paul and his attempts to harmonize the Hellenistic and
Jewish factions within early Christianity. It seems to be something very
obvious, but which has nevertheless been ignored or forgotten. To be direct,
fifteen hundred years of dressing Jesus in Greek robes in the sacred art of
East and West has made us forget that Jesus was never actually Greek at
all.
This assumption that the Orthodox
Church and the culture the Gospel arose from are Eastern and therefore the same
thing also has enormous implications for the current objection. The underlying premise
is that if the Western Orthodox accept the “Eastern” Jesus without complaint or
desire to Westernize him, they should therefore be willing to accept the
liturgy of the East without any need for a westernization of it, either. But
the truth is that neither the West nor the “East” has accepted Jesus or the
Gospel without any sort of acculturation, as has been apparent by the
imposition of Greek philosophical vocabulary on to the Gospel, a process which
no Orthodox Christian would regard as illegitimate. [5] So even the Eastern Church
has engaged in its own sort of acculturation and accommodation to the Gospel,
which detractors to the Western rite have nevertheless decried as illegitimate
for Christianity in the West.
We can sometimes detect an air of
superiority regarding the Eastern rite from the Western rite’s most ardent
detractors. Sometimes these observations are quite sophisticated and have a distinct
theological underpinning, as we see in the case of Alexander Schmemann; more
often, they are in reality the sort of gross subjectivism that is typified in
Stratman, who finds the character of the Roman rite to be one of
Imperialism,
regimentation, coldness of spirit, materialistic efficiency, legalism: these
are some of the Roman-Latin traits which distorted Western Christianity into
the travesty of a Church which for almost a thousand years has been the most dangerous
and insidious enemy of Christ and His Immaculate Bride. Observe the Latin Mass
critically and behold the Manifestation of every one of these traits! [6]
But such a criticism of the
Western Church is highly subjective and, taken with the balance of Stratman’s
thoughts on the subject, may best be described as xenophobic. What is more,
most of his criticism about the Roman rite could easily be made of the Eastern
rite by individuals approaching the Eastern rite from a different perspective.
[7] But Stratman goes on for several more pages denigrating everything Western
from a highly subjective standpoint, oblivious to the possibility that the same
criticism can be turned back on the Eastern rite in many instances, precisely
because of their subjective nature. Such subjective accusations are hardly new,
and they have been present within Christianity since at least the seventh
century. Stephenson summarizes the attitude of the era as one of questioning “if
customs differ, how (they ask) is discipline to be preserved? If they differ
obstinately, what is this but schism? How can there be unity of men will not
renounce their differences?” [8] Though such attitudes are old, they are hardly
helpful.
Schmemann’s critique is certainly
more nuanced and is made comprehensible by his methodology of lex orandi,
lex credendi: “this criticism itself is rooted primarily in my deep
conviction that the Eastern liturgical tradition is alone today in
having preserved, in spite of all historical ‘deficiencies,’ the fullness of
the Church’s lex orandi.” [9] However, it is precisely that methodology
that leads him to a false conclusion, that is, because the West ultimately came
into a state of schism and heresy, there must be some defect in the rite
because the rite is the source of the heretical theology. Consequently, no
other rite aside from the Eastern rite can and perhaps never could adequately convey
the fullness of Orthodoxy. And yet, he is not averse to stating in other places
that the source of the West’s troubles was its having severed theology from its
true source and ultimate arbiter in the form of the liturgy, a process he sees
taking place in the Orthodox Church and is quick to decry. [10] The later
scenario, obviously, is the case for the history of the West, namely that the
liturgy ceased to be a source of theology and ultimately became one of its many
subjects. In that regard, we should meet Schmemann’s methodological assumption,
that the Church only believes what it prays, and its ensuing critique, with an
equally robust criticism: sometimes people believe more than what they pray and
sometimes they pray what they don’t believe for appearance’s sake.
However, it must also be
remembered that Schememann specifically regards the Eastern rite as having
preserved the lex orandi of early Christianity, [11] regarding such
elements as the Paschal canon of St John of Damascus as closer to the common
Catholic heritage as anything else within the Christian tradition. [12]
Furthermore, despite his critique of Western Rite Orthodoxy on the basis of its
liturgy, it is clear that Schmemann is arguably more concerned with the people
who make up the Western Rite, whether they have sufficiently absorbed an Orthodox
ethos or are merely attempting to find a safe shelter beyond their form
ecclesiological home where they can continue their previous life, dogmatically
and liturgically, without interference. [13] This is certainly a valid pastoral
concern, but it is also highly individualistic and, in a certain sense, a
subjective judgement. It is a question that needs to be investigated more
thoroughly with regards to Western Rite Orthodoxy as it is practiced, but does
not, in this author’s opinion, address the Western rite’s legitimacy in
abstracto as a legitimate expression of the Orthodox faith, and thus not
germane to the present question.
Schmemann’s critique, while
established by his methodology, probably would strike a chord with the average
Orthodox believer. Stratman’s comment, while at the extreme end of Orthodoxy in
America, nevertheless is representative of powerful feelings of antagonism
towards the West and things Western. We might expect that it comes from a “less
enlightened time,” but if this is so, such enlightenment has only come about
very recently. We are thereby left to question if Orthodoxy in the West really
gotten over its “psychological negativism” as has been protested by Schmemann
and Dye, individually or, as is implied, collectively? Certainly Johnson believes
that Orthodoxy has done so through its receptivity towards the saints of the
pre-schism and their commemoration within the Eastern rite:
If we can
picture Overbeck in 19th century England we might realize why he felt an
Orthodoxy using a “western rite” was absolutely essential if the Church was to
have a viable mission in the West. Overbeck would have only been able to experience
the worship of Orthodoxy as done among recent immigrants, using not English,
but the languages of their mother countries. No wonder he might reach the
conclusion that only an Orthodoxy with a different rite, that had a western
memory, could ever again be the church of the venerable Bede… Orthodoxy doesn't
have to have a “western rite” to have a western memory. With this in mind, let
us suppose Overbeck's experience of the Church had been quite different.
Suppose he had attended the celebration of the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom on
the feast of the venerable Bede and there in the narthex was a beautiful icon
of this saint for veneration by the faithful. Suppose, too that the Liturgy had
been conducted entirely in English. What could he find missing to celebrate the
feast of this great saint of the early Christian west? True, the Liturgy would
not be served in exactly the same way as Bede himself would have done (but then,
neither - by a long shot - would the “western rite” liturgies of St Tikhon or
St Gregory be the same as done by the venerable Bede). [14]
Though it would be impossible to
gauge the extent of the venation of Western saints within Orthodoxy (and
indeed, what precisely could be defined as a “Western” saint in the first place
since may individuals are venerated with equal zeal in both calendars, St
Nicholas of Myra being perhaps the most significant instance), perhaps an
anecdotal and admittedly arbitrary guess can be hazarded. Orthodoxy in North America
has seen significant growth in the past century, with the founding of several
new congregations. Judging by patronal names alone, and excluding those which
could be understood as referencing individuals who could be either Eastern or
Western (such as St Gregory, who could be Gregory Dialogus or Gregory the
Theologian if no modifier is included) or one of the Apostles, we find that
parishes dedicated to Western saints, with the exception of a few Western rite parishes,
are almost non-existent. Among the three largest jurisdictions in North America
(The Greek Orthodox Archdiocese, the Antiochian Archdiocese, and the Orthodox
Church in America), there are only five parishes that can be described as
having distinctly Western patronal names. There are none in the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese
and four in the Orthodox Church in America: St Aidan of Lindisfarne Mission,
Cranbrook, BC; St Benedict of Nursia, Montreal, QC; St Ambrose of Milan
Mission, Roanoke, VA; and St Cyprian of Carthage Mission, Richmond, VA. Within
the Antiochian Archdiocese, aside from the Western rite parishes, only one is
named for a Western saint: St Vincent of Lerins in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan;
that leaves five Eastern rite parishes out of nearly 1,000 which bear the name
of a distinctively Western saint. [15]
Certainly, such a note is
simultaneously idiosyncratic and anecdotal, but it does serve to point out that
while the Western rite is not required for a Western memory, without a Western
rite there is little in the way of that Western memory. While it can be pointed
out that important Western saints such as Patrick of Ireland have begun reappearing
on the calendars of Orthodox churches in the West, we are left wanting for any
effectual evidence that those saints are even commemorated. The point of parish
names goes at least so far as to demonstrate that these Western saints would be
commemorated in at least these places if for no other reason than the occasion
of a patronal festival. It also leaves untouched the question of how these same
saints are received in traditionally Orthodox places, whether Patrick of
Ireland makes it into the calendar of, for example, the Church of Georgia or
not, without mentioning if he is actually commemorated. [16] The primary
fallacy in Johnson’s argument is the assumption that inclusion on the calendar,
or even commemoration in the liturgy, is evidence of a “Western memory.” To
turn the point on its head, John Chrysostom, Basil the Great, and Gregory of
Nazianzos all appear in the Roman calendar though I doubt very seriously that Johnson
would thereby admit that the Roman Catholic Church has an “Eastern memory.”
For the Orthodox Church to have
something of a Western memory, it would seem logical that the East, without
exception would be able to see in the West something familiar and evocative of
the memory. While there are instances of this positive reception, most often it
is a presumed or idealized conception of the West rather than the West as it
actually was in the first millennium. [17] Simultaneously, there are many
examples, historically and presently, of those who regard the West as something
alien and wholly foreign, not only to the East, but to Christianity in general.
The latter is certainly the position that Stratman takes in saying “from the
point of view either of justice or logic, their position is no different from
that of converted African savages… Logically, the situation is no different
than if there never been any Western Rite.” [18] Even more bothersome is his
directly claim that “the true Gospel spirit [is] Eastern in the sense that it
is anti-Western.” [19] While Stratman’s view is somewhat extreme, the practical
result is the same even in more moderated views: Western converts should adopt
the Eastern rite because the Eastern rite is Orthodox. This leads to the
question of precisely where the categorical rejection of the West came from.
Sopko points to “an unhealthy by-product of the cultural superiority which
Byzantium did indeed once possess over the West for many centuries but
eventually lost.” [20] Certainly, there are replete examples of this presumed
cultural superiority by Easterners, most notably Theophylakt of Ochrid, who
assumed that all Westerners as uneducated savages and assumed Latin to be an
impoverished language incapable of theological expression. [21] And certainly,
as we have seen, animosity was present between the two sides for a long period
of time.
The categorical rejection of the
West and all things Western is therefore not new, but it is hardly a relic of
the past. Among Greek theologians, the neo-patristic school, commonly
identified with the theologies of John Romanides, Christos Yannaras, and, to a
lesser extent, John Zizioulas, makes a determined rejection of the West and all
things Western as foreign to Orthodoxy. [22] Romanides is particularly firm in
his rejection of the West via his rejection of Augustinian theology, which he
views as the origin of scholasticism and consequently of every divergence of
the West from the East. [23] And Romanides is not alone in his conclusions,
with Yannaras succinctly stating at the outset that “Augustine’s theology was
decisive, offering an ideal basis for a differentiated Western Christianity.” [24]
While Augustine is not the sole genesis of theology in the West despite conclusions
to the contrary by some Orthodox theologians, he is in some way symbolic of
that theology, and thus an explicit rejection of Augustine is a rejection of
Western Christianity. [25] That Romanides traces the theological separation of
East and West to such an early period would mean that the tree is cut from the
root long before anything approaching the Western rite (at least in any extant
form) could arise.
Certainly, we can disagree with
Romanides’ conclusions about Augustine and his role in the creation of Western
Christianity, [26] but again to those theologians who oppose “the West” and
particularly Western influence in Orthodoxy the symbolism Augustine provides is
a tempting target.
It is
illuminating that the unequivocal condemnation of Augustine by Orthodox
theologians first appears in early nineteenth-century Russia in its Slavophile
form and then reappears in the late 1950s among Greek theologians. In both
situations, the anti-Augustine sentiment emerges together with a reaction
against what is perceived to be western influences that are incompatible with
the intellectual and spiritual tradition in Russia and Greece. The move toward
a restoration of a more authentic, national, intellectual, and spiritual
identity in these Orthodox countries was based on a construction of a
particular set of categories, namely “the West” and “the East,” and an
understanding of these categories in terms of diametrical opposition. [27]
This brings us back to the
question of “psychological negativism” that Sopko identified, which both
Schmemann and Johnson deny has any effect on their estimation of the Western
rite’s orthodoxy. Johnson’s objection is the more flawed than Schmemann’s, but
the conclusion he reaches is more damaging. His conclusion that providing the
Eastern rite in modern English and commemorating important Western saints is
sufficient demonstration of a Western memory or overcomes Sopko’s psychological
negativism is simple, yet it draws an irrelevant conclusion: one may speak
English as one’s native language and yet be hostile towards the West and all
things Western. Insofar as Romanides and other theologians working within the
neo-Patristic synthesis exhibit this negativism, Romanides takes it to an
extreme level which “[interprets] the ‘West’ as diametrically opposed to the ‘East,’
both theologically and in terms of its cultural ethos.” [28] Thus, the West is
no longer simply something that went astray and could be brought back into
conformity with Orthodoxy, but is now to be seen as something which Orthodoxy
must rejected as unorthodox, at least from Augustine forward.
Romanides approaches the
separation of East and West not as a consequence of a growing separate
ecclesial life, but the domination, even genocide, of the “West Romans” by an
external force in the Frankish kingdoms. In Romanides’ view, far from there
being a “Latin Church” and a “Greek Church,” there was a “Roman Church” composed
primarily of the Byzantines and inhabitants Italy and a “Frankish Church” which
developed apart from direct continuity with Roman Christianity. [29] However,
such a dichotomy ignores the general evidence from history, [30] especially the
fact that “so far from wanting to remake the Western Roman Empire in their own
image, and so rupturing its links with the East, [The Franks] were only too
glad to accept whatever of its patrimony… the Greco-Roman world at large could
offer them.” [31] A more accurate assessment might be to see a Greek
Christianity in the hellenized centers of the East, a Latin Church exemplified
by Rome and the Latin-speaking regions of Italy, and a Frankish Church in Gaul,
northern Italy and Germania, drawing from a common theological heritage in the
first six ecumenical councils but developing it along distinct lines. The
Frankish line comes out of the Latin, but the two are eventually reintegrated
in the tenth and eleventh centuries. To put the matter simply, Romanides’
historical theory rests on a base that is ultimately fantasy. However, despite
the peculiarity of his historical reconstruction, Romanides’ influence should not
be understated, particularly his impact on Orthodox living in the West and even
on non-Orthodox scholars. [32]
Considering the origins of the
Slavophile movement and its influence on the neo-Patristic school, both with
their rejection of all things Western, it is interesting to note a parallel
timeline within Western Rite Orthodoxy. Khomiakov began his theological work on
sobornost and Slavophilism in the 1830’s and developing coherence in the
1850’s while Overbeck makes his initial approach to the Synod of the Russian
Orthodox Church in 1864. Both Slavophilia and neo-Patristic thought would lead
to Orthodoxy down a road where not only was the West forgotten, it was often
rejected outright as something alien to Orthodoxy or, where the West was
accepted in whole or part, it was often reinterpreted to the point that Western
fathers are devout hellenists who are misunderstood by unworthy successors,
especially in Romanides’ skewed vision. So we may confidently conclude that Johnson
is mistaken when he states Orthodoxy has a Western memory: English and icons of
the Bede do not make a Western memory if they are detached from the historical
context and proper perspective.
There is another type of
psychological negativism which permeates the Eastern rite, and that is the
negativism that comes from converts. In responding to Sopko, Dye finds himself
free of the psychological negativism that permeates Eastern Rite Orthodoxy, [33]
but there is an existing negativism which comes from being disillusioned with
one’s former Church and habits of life which is, in some ways, common of all
converts regardless of when or how long ago they converted. Many within the
Western Rite Orthodox display this sort of negativism as well, though unlike
Dye they do not abjure their former habits of worship. Such hostility is
perhaps understandable since many who leave one church in favour of another do
so because of some deficiency, real or perceived, in the former group.
Sometimes, this hostility can fade but just as frequently it can remain
seething beneath the surface until it is released in open attack on former
associations; this is especially true when the one leaving the group feels that
they are being forced out in some way or have been betrayed by the group itself,
either because of changes to demographics, purpose, or beliefs of the group.
While not the same as the ethnically based “psychological negativism” that
Sopko describes, it can not only be every bit as blinding to the affected
individual, it can also be used to feed the assumptions and ideas of those how
possess Sopko’s negativism. However, despite Dye’s protestations to the
contrary, not having been Orthodox all of one’s life does not free one from psychological
negativism; rather, it merely makes them susceptible to different varieties of
negativism with a pseudo-legitimate air about them on the assumption that
converts must have some special insider knowledge. [34]
Ultimately, the best response to
the assertion that Orthodoxy does not need a Western rite is not to argue the
point of necessity; from the standpoint of the Orthodox, the Church does not
need anything that has not already been provided to her and if something was
abandoned along the way, it is because it was not necessary. The real question:
how is the Orthodox Church supposed to approach Western Christianity,
especially if there is an eventual reunion between East and West? While
criticisms of Western Rite Orthodoxy are abundant, most that have been put
forward are largely superficial, and it is this superficiality that Sopko is
attempting to get at, however ineptly; it is also the same lack of depth that
Johnson attempts to rebut while simultaneously succumbing to the same. While
criticizing the Western rite on a superficial basis, few critics go so far as
to offer alternatives to Western Rite Orthodoxy or to take a larger perspective
and consider how their unspoken assumptions would affect larger Western groups
seeking union with the Orthodox Church; to put it another way, if reunion took
place tomorrow between Constantinople and Rome, what liturgy would Roman
Catholics use? For his part, Schmemann is certainly correct that there are more
significant issues to be raised in regards to Western Rite Orthodoxy, even
though he himself does not approach them with the necessary depth in writing on
the subject, than to focus on whether or not Orthodoxy needs a Western rite and
what that says about Orthodox Christianity. Certainly, some are likely to have
such an immediate and uncritical reaction, but those are hardly individuals who
are likely to take opportunity to critique the Byzantine tradition to the same
degree that Schmemann does in other places. [35]
NOTES
1. There are
varieties of Western Rite Orthodoxy, but the most common form is found in the Antiochian
Orthodox Archdiocese of North America, which used modified versions of the Tridentine
rite or The Anglican Missal (which is itself based on the 1928 US Book
of Common Prayer). The most common changes are introducing the
epiclesis from the Divine Liturgy of St John Chrysostom, removing reference to
the Pope or the filioque, and strengthening petitions to the saints and
references to the eucharistic sacrifice in liturgies derived from Anglican
sources. Western rite parishes and monasteries Russian Orthodox Church Outside
Russia use similar liturgies to those just described, in addition to
reconstructions of the Sarum use. Furthermore, the Orthodox Church of France,
formerly part of the Romanian Orthodox Church, used a reconstructed version of
the Gallican rite. The present article addresses criticisms laid against all forms
of Western Rite Orthodoxy, since many critics of the Western rite do not take
into account the supposed antiquity or source of the liturgy use, considering
all form of the Western rite to be invalid.
2. Andrew
Sopko, ‘Western Rite Orthodoxy: A Case Study and Reappraisal,’ St Vladimir’s
Theological Quarterly Vol. 24, No. 4, 1980, p. 255.
3. Cf.,
e.g., John Rossner, ‘Orthodoxy and the Future of Western Christianity’, St
Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly Vol. 14, No. 3, 1970, pp. 134-5; Winfield
S. Mott, ‘Some Perspectives on the Western Rite – I,” St Vladimir’s
Theological Quarterly Vol. 26, No. 2, 1982, pp. 124-5; and Alexy
Young “An Introduction,” in Michael Trigg, ed. An Introduction to Western
Rite Orthodoxy (Ben Lomond: Conciliar Press, 1993), pp. 5-6.
4.
Chrysostomos Stratman, “The Roman Rite in Orthodoxy,” p. 9.
5. This is
not to say that the Greek context of early Christianity is irrelevant or
unimportant. Greek culture provided a vehicle for interpreting the Hebrew
scriptures, and the Christian faith to the non-Jewish world. Furthermore,
Christianity has historically claimed that Greek and Latin culture were being
divinely prepared to receive the revelation of the Gospel, the philosophical quests
coming to their own natural conclusion at precisely the correct time for the
audience to be receptive. In that sense, one can agree with Georges Florovsky’s
assessment that “we are all Greek” (theologically speaking). Simultaneously,
this must be qualified to some degree as the Latin tradition has contributed to
the common theological heritage, so there remains a subtle danger in
Florovsky’s statement. Furthermore, the difference between Greek and Jewish
culture cannot be overstated in this case, precisely because many Western rite
critics, in saying we are all eastern, does not seem intend as merely
theologically, but culturally as well. In this case, consistent repetition of
the historical context of Jesus is important because the implication in stating
Jesus’ easternness without further specificity is a deceptive straw-man.
6. Stratman,
“The Roman Rite in Orthodoxy,” p. 3.
7. My own
anecdotal experience in the opposite direction (non-Orthodox reflecting on the
Divine Liturgy) is perhaps illustrative in this regard. Among non-Orthodox
associates, there are varying perspectives on the Divine Liturgy after the
first time they see it celebrated. Many are awe-struck by the liturgy, but just
as many, if not more in some instances, find themselves turned off to the liturgy,
describing it with the same adjectives that Stratman uses, to also include
“pompous,” “ostentatious,” “unintelligible,” “confusing,” and “meaningless.”
This serves to underscore the point that subjective approach to the liturgy is
simply that: subjective. Long-term admirers (Orthodox and non-Orthodox alike)
would be want to use the same descriptors, but these, too, are subjective
judgements, so they can only say something about what is or is not right for me
as an individual, and thus are to be avoided categorically.
8. Richard
Southern, Western Society and the Church (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books,
1970), p. 57.
9. Alexander
Schmemann, “Some Reflections Upon ‘A Case Study,’” St Vladimir’s Theological
Quarterly Vol. 24, No. 4, 1980, p. 268, emphasis original.
10.
Schmemann, Introduction to Liturgical Theology (London: Faith Press,
Ltd., 1963), pp. 16 21. See also Schmemann, “Problems of Orthodoxy in America
II: The Liturgical Problem,” St Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly (NS) Vol.
8, No. 4, 1964, pp. 164-85.
11.
Schmemann, “Some Reflections Upon ‘A Case Study,’” St Vladimir’s Theological
Quarterly Vol. 24, No. 4, 1980, p. 268.
12.
Schmemann, “Notes and Comments: The Western Rite,” St Vladimir’s Seminary
Quarterly (NS) Vol. 2, No. 4, 1958, p. 30.
13. This is
brought out, for example, in Schmemann’s comment that making a Western liturgy Orthodox
involves more than textual changes (“Some Reflections Upon ‘A Case Study,’” St
Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly Vol. 24, No. 4, 1980, p. 268), but is
directly stated in his previous comments that jurisdictional belongings,
minimal assent to specific doctrinal and liturgical points, or “mechanical”
understanding of Apostolic Succession are “a very real danger to Orthodoxy” and
“the replacement of Orthodoxy of ‘content’ by an Orthodoxy of ‘form’” (“Notes
and Comments: The Western Rite,” St Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly (NS)
Vol. 2, No. 4, 1958, p. 30). Of course, the very same criticism could have been
made of convert parishes which use the Eastern rite, so there is not
necessarily anything specific to Western Rite Orthodoxy, though Schemann would
doubtless argue the danger created is even greater within the Western rite than
in if the converts are formed in the Byzantine rite.
14. Michael
Johnson, “The “Western Rite”: Is it Right for Orthodoxy,” The Priest Vol.
5, May 1995, http://www.holy-trinity.org/modern/western-rite/johnson.html.
However, Johnson is off the mark in his assumption that Overbeck would have
found that nothing could be lacking in the English Celebration of the Eastern
rite. Timotheos Hatherly advocated for the Eastern rite in English, yet his
objective was bitterly opposed by Overbeck as insufficient. See Jack Turner, Cum
Illa Greaci Sint, Nos Latini: Western Rite Orthodoxy and the Eastern
Orthodox Church (PhD thesis: University of Wales, 2010), pp. 33-4.
15. Anecdotally,
the most common parish name is Sts Peter and Paul in the OCA and Holy Trinity in
the Antiochian and Greek Orthodox Archdioceses. If we account for the various
festal titles, the Theotokos and derivative titles have a solid majority in all
three jurisdictions.
16. Of
course, in all fairness, one would undoubtedly require an extensive memory, and
Orthodox cannot be faulted for preferring the familiar over the “other,” no
matter how ancient or venerable. There are encouraging signs, notably in the
Moscow Patriarchate’s 2007 decision allowing the third Sunday after Pentecost
to be celebrated as All Saints of Britain and Ireland.
17. One
example involves an Orthodox priest, related to me by an associate: the priest
insisted that there was no Western rite because the Western rite was invented
after 1054. When pressed to identify the liturgy used before the Schism, the
priest stated that it was the John Chrysostom liturgy, which was used
faithfully up to 1053. When further pressed for where the priest had acquired
this knowledge, he this was told to him in seminary. Clearly, this is an
extreme example, but it is by no means an isolated one.
18.
Stratman, “The Roman Rite in Orthodoxy,” p. 2.
19. Ibid.,
9.
20. Sopko,
“Western Rite Orthodoxy: A Case Study,” St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly Vol.
24, No. 4, 1980, p. 255.
21. Tia M.
Kolbaba “The Orthodoxy of the Latins in the Twelfth Century,” in Andrew Louth
and Augustine Cassidy, eds. Byzantine Orthodoxies (London: SPCK, 2006),
p. 201.
22. George
Demacopoulos and Aristotle Papanikolaou, “Augustine and the Orthodox,” in Aristotle
Papanikolaou and George Demacopoulos, eds. Orthodox Readings of Augustine (Crestwood,
NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press), pp. 30-6.
23. These
were not, of course, the first to decry Western influence in the Orthodox
Church. St Nichodemos the Athonite in his collection of cannons of the Orthodox
Church is particularly antagonistic towards the Latins, writing in a time of
particular anti-Latin popular sentiment. Nicodemos directed his antagonism
against the Latins in regards to the validity of their sacraments, particularly
baptism in his commentaries on various baptismal canons of the ecumenical
councils, most notably Canon 8 – Nicaea, 325; Canon 7 – Constantinople, 381;
and Canon 95 – Pentetheke, 691. His commentary goes to great lengths to justify
leniency in the admission of Arians, Nestorians, and Monophysites, but in
regards to Latins he is unequivocally adamant, stating that all are to be
re-baptized, and in conformity with the policy of the Ecumenical Patriarchate.
24. Christos
Yannaras, Orthodoxy and the West: Hellenic Self-Identity in the Modern Age (Brookline,
MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2006), p. 16.
25. This
could be qualified in the case of Romanides since he rejects Frankish
Christianity rather than what he would identify as authentic West Roman
Christianity, though the practical result is the same regardless of the
phrasing.
26. Cf.
Demacopoulos and Papanikolaou, “Augustine and the Orthodox,” in Aristotle Papanikolaou
and George Demacopoulos, eds. Orthodox Readings of Augustine (Crestwood,
NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press), pp. 11-40 and Peter Galadza, “The Liturgical
Commemoration of Augustine in the Orthodox Church: An Ambiguous Lex Orandi for
an Ambiguous Lex Credendi,” St Vladimir’s Theological
Quarterly Vol. 52, No. 1, 2008, pp. 111-130.
27. Ibid.,
p. 37.
28. Ibid.,
28.
29. John S.
Romanides, Franks, Romans, Feudalism, and Doctrine: An Interplay Between Theology
and Society (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1981), p. 60.
30. Though
Romanides would say that this “evidence” is flawed because it buys in to the Frankish
mythology that the Franks and the West Romans shared a theological lineage
distinct from the Byzantine East (see Romanides, op. cit., pp. 63, 69).
31. Aiden
Nichols, Light From the East: Authors and Themes in Orthodox Theology (London:
Sheed & Ward, 1995), pp. 79-80.
32.
Demacopoulos and Papanikolaou, “Augustine and the Orthodox,” in Aristotle
Papanikolaou and George Demacopoulos, eds. Orthodox Readings of Augustine (Crestwood,
NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press), p. 5 n.75.
33. Gregory
H. M. Dye, “Notes and Comments: Some Perspectives on the Western Rite – II,” St
Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly Vol.26 No. 2, 1982, p. 125.
34. For
further critique of converts and the unique challenges they bring to churches
which they convert to, see, Joseph D. Honeycutt, One Flew Over the Onion
Dome: American Orthodox Converts, Retreads, and Reverts (Salisbury,
MA: Regina Orthodox Press, 2006). The negativism that converts can bring when
discussing their former memberships is not to be overlooked. Particularly for
those converts coming to Western Rite Orthodoxy, there is frequently a sense of
betrayal and not a little bit of bitterness against their former churches. Many
convert parishes and clergy came to Orthodoxy from Anglicanism after The
Episcopal Church’s decision to ordain women in 1977. It may also be borne in
mind that Stratman was himself a convert to the Orthodox Church.
35. Cf.
Schmemann’s three-part series in St Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly on the
problems of Orthodoxy in America: “Problems of Orthodoxy in America I: The
Canonical Problem,” St Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly (NS) Vol. 8
No.2, 1964, pp. 67-85; “Problems of Orthodoxy in America II: The Liturgical
Problem,” St Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly (NS) Vol. 8 No. 4, 1964, pp.
164-185; and “Problems of Orthodoxy in America III: The Spiritual Problem,” St
Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly (NS) Vol. 9. No. 4, 1965, pp. 171-194.
