Archive for July, 2011

Conversations by E-Mail – Summer 2011

Tuesday, July 26th, 2011

These are extracts from recent postings to the OPF’s e-mail discussion list. If you are an OPF member and wish to take part, contact Mark Pearson <markp -at- earlham.edu> or Jim Forest <jhforest -at-gmail.com.

Osama Bin Laden: The killing of Osama Bin Laden reminds me of the summary execution of the Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu in 1989. At the time, there was jubilation because this event signified the slow-in-coming fall of an important piece in the political domino of ex-communist Eastern Europe

However, as a Romanian who had experienced first hand the terror of the police state headed by him, all I could feel was shame that people who called themselves Christian were so pleased with political assassination.

I feel now a sadness that there is so little room in this culture for views beside pleasure in manhunts and killing as a solution for dealing with terrorism or political opposition in other countries.
I am convinced that it does eventual harm to all of us who live here, especially to children who grow up learning that this is the “way.”

Ioana Novac

Pascha 2011: Last week we celebrated Easter. The world really needs Easter. An earthquake plus tsunami knocked the Earth off its axis in Japan, the American South was being decimated with storms, a megalomaniac was and is running wild in Libya, and now the extrajudicial killing of Osama Bin Laden has taken place in “defense of freedom.” The world really needs Easter.

Benjamin Abbott

Constantine the Great

Constantinian conundrum: Part of my OPF work is to respond to the hard questions people send via our web site or e-address. Here is one someone has asked plus my answer. How would you have answered him differently

Question: “I struggle to understand St. Constantine’s vision of the Cross and the message to violently conquer in the sign of the Cross. He is a saint, and who am I to question his actions? But such a message seems to be a perversion of the true meaning of the Cross, whereby Our Lord gave His own life and showed us that we must turn the other cheek. How do we reconcile our nonviolent philosophy with the actions of St. Constantine?”

My response: While I cannot speak for the whole Orthodox tradition, I would answer your question in this way, hoping that I am doing justice to the scriptures and the wisdom of the Fathers (or at least not doing damage to either).

In a sense, if we are Christians, we are all called to be “pacifists” – the Way of Christ is the way of peace. But few of us fit the definition of the term very closely.

The Church has always been leery of what happens to the soul of any Christian when he takes a human life, yet also realistic about the fact that a person might be confronted with what seem like impossible choices – between allowing another to be harmed and acting in their defense, between responding to the unity of humanity and to the claims of patriotism, and so forth.

For Constantine to see the cross as a sign of divine approbation of war was wrong. He was not made a saint because of his success in battle or other violent actions as emperor, but for his ending the persecution of Christians and for his support of the Church in its good works.

By the same token, St. John Chrysostom is not honored for his various failures (such as his harsh words regarding Judaism) but for his living out of fundamental message of Christ, his eloquence and his defense of doctrine that is central to the Church.

We all commit sins, but should still strive toward the perfection that God asks of us and toward which He helps us.

Alex Patico

Anomalies: There are many anomalies in the Orthodox Church. A perfect example is the commemoration on Pentecost of the Uniate last Emperor of Constantinople in my Russian parish. Another example – on the same day – was our prayer, during the third kneeling prayer, for those in Hades, the only time we do so liturgically during the year. It is an extraordinary prayer. Normally, we simply don’t pray for those in hell; but on Pentecost we do. There are also a few scattered examples in the lives of saints who sought, through prayer, to pray people out of hell (e.g., Trajan by Pope St. Gregory the Great).

My view is that we ought not be predisposed to eliminate what at first glance seems odd or anomalous. Rather, we ought to assume the practices to be correct unless they can be shown, with great force, to be wrong. Rather than start by judging odd practices, we ought to look at how they may push us to expand our views and not put God into a box.

To quote Metropolitan Hilarion Alfayev: “Orthodox liturgical texts are important because of their ability to give exact criteria of theological truth, and one must always confirm theology using liturgical texts as a guideline, and not the other way round. The lex credendi grows out of the lex orandi, and dogmas are considered divinely revealed because they are born in the life of prayer and revealed to the Church through its divine services. Thus, if there are differences in the understanding of a dogma between a certain theological authority and liturgical texts, I would be inclined to give preference to the latter. And if a textbook of dogmatic theology contains views different from those found in liturgical texts, it is the textbook, not the liturgical texts that may need correction.”

When we see things that seem anomalous to us, let’s not be so sure that the anomalies need to be removed. Let’s not be so sure we know all the answers, or need to.

Daniel Lieuwen

Maybe: The Church is such a complex institution, the scriptures so rich and (sometimes) ambiguous, and the nature of God so unfathomable, that it is reasonable to say “maybe” more quickly than “definitely not.”

An Iranian author I like described a situation involving her uncle. Her Muslim friends were talking over how best to relate to Baha’is. One man said, “They usually seem like very nice people … but I wouldn’t want my daughter to marry one.” Another said, “They are apostates – they knew Islam and rejected it!” A third asked her uncle what he thought on the subject. His response was: “I am glad that Allah is larger than the closet in which you keep Him.”

Alex Patico

Population: The world population will hit seven billion in the next few weeks. There is no limit in sight. Meanwhile whole habitats are destroyed and the earth becomes less capable of sustaining life. Species are dying out because of the sheer number of people and the influence we exert on the planet. Each time a link in the eco-chain disappears, we endanger our own survival.

It is not just that we as individuals create more pollution than our ancestors did. In fact our behavior as individuals may even be improving in some ways because of recycling, less polluting cars etc. The problem is in the sheer number of us. If you solve the population problem, many of the other problems, such as emissions, pollution, erosion and destruction of habitats, will more or less go away.

At the time of Early Fathers, over-population wasn’t an issue. This may be why the Church, even if it has a lot to say about ecology and our relationship with Creation, didn’t address such issues as over-population. Also, over-population is not a moral category like cruelty, murder or theft. These are universal crimes, and one can justly aspire to a world where no one is cruel, kills or steals. But reproduction is not a “crime” or a “sin.” You cannot aspire to world where no one has babies, as then the human race would become extinct: the patient would be cured, but dead! The problem lies in the way we act in aggregate, not as individuals.

Somehow – I don’t know how – we must evolve to become more hospitable and compassionate towards one another while at the same time being realistic about the challenges posed by over-population. What should we as Christians be thinking, saying and doing about this problem?

James Chater

Other factors: I agree, James, but there are so many other factors. One is corrupt government that fails to distribute food equitably or to distribute food aid at all. Another is cash crops – poor countries serving as the farms of the distant rich. Another is education – there is a tendency for better-educated people to have fewer children. The poor are kept poor, and poor people tend to have more children. The notorious approach of the past century was in various ways to limit the size of poor families by means of birth control, abortion and even sterilization. But this doesn’t get to the root of the problem. If the failure of the world to feed, clothe and educate its population was better dealt with, would it reduce the population problem? Or exacerbate it, keeping ever more people alive and give them longer lives?

Nancy Forest

Above: Adam and Eve with Christ in Paradise (Monreale, Palermo

Sexuality: I suspect that we can’t really learn about human sexuality from Adam and Eve, who were initially beautiful, good and pure but immature, who then also suffered the disintegration associated with the fall.

Being fallen, we are probably not good judges of how things should be because of the lack of integration between heart (nous) and head and body, or soul. We experience a fractured existence with the elements of our personhood out of sync with each other. We are materialistic about more than foods; we misuse what is essentially good in an idolatrous way, and this includes our sexuality.

And so we drift this way and that, and then convince ourselves that we are discovering a rule or the truth. But Truth for us is someone, not something. Jesus is our Truth. We must offer ourselves to Him to begin to learn without guile, with a broken and contrite heart.

Maybe sexuality augments our understanding of God. Maybe biology is meant to help open the eyes of our understanding. God could have given us different forms, but made us as we are.

Like the relationships in a monastic vocation, the relationship between married persons is a path toward salvation that can contribute to our redemption and deification if it is lived sacramentally with thanksgiving. Our God-given sexuality can be good, instructive toward wisdom, and useful.

The pattern and prototype comes from the Holy Trinity; and it is modeled for us by Jesus in the Incarnation as He fashions, or creates, His “bride” (with “her” voluntary collaboration) – together with the Father and the Holy Spirit – and makes all things new. In other words, this great and Divine Liturgical relationship is creation. It is a Divine dynamic that cannot be circumscribed in words.

The parable of bridegroom and bride is one very good way of describing the relationship between the Israel of God and the Eternal Son; and the “parable” of children of God and brothers and sisters in Christ, our High Priest over all creation, is another. But each is a “parable” or “typos” and does not fully reveal the glory of what we may eventually become through God’s grace and our desire for Him. The Holy Trinity is creating. Trying to find words to contain that Truth leaves us helplessly speechless.

It’s a question, not an answer… But it’s hard for me to see sexuality without a context. It is a gift for edification, although we may misuse or waste it.

Sally Eckert

After the Fall: Thanks, Sally. Part of our problem with living in this world is that we only know of the world in its fallen condition and we can never fully apprehend what life was like before the Fall. Everything we experience, no matter how “natural” is experienced through the lens of the Fall.

In some ways this is a great limit on our understanding how to live in this world. Just like science cannot peer into anything prior to the “Big Bang” – that is the limit of science – so too we cannot peer into the world before the flood let alone the world before the Fall.

These are “worlds” beyond our perception, though we can know about them through the Scriptures. The eschaton and heaven too are beyond our normal experience, though we are granted hints, prefigurations, glimpses into these “worlds.” We are granted awareness of these “worlds” which allows us to anticipate them, which is somewhat the joy we experience in and through the Liturgy.

But as the Fathers saw it, sexual activity belongs to this world – the world of the Fall and the world of sin and death. They tended to believe there was no sexual activity in Paradise (perhaps because none is mentioned in Scripture until after the Fall) and that there will be none in the Kingdom to come (“they will be like angels not given in marriage”).

So our entire experience of and understanding of sexuality and gender is, as we experience it, in this the world of the Fall. So we are left to theorize about it, and to understand the commandments related to it (these commandments by the way are also given to us in the world of the Fall, so they may have no eternal validity belonging to the first Covenant rather than to Christ), and to interpret what it is to be human.

Discussions about sexuality and gender are therefore conducted within an incomplete experience of the entire cosmos; creation and paradise as well as the eschaton and heaven are beyond our experience. They are part of the context in which we are to understand sexuality.

But because of our limited experience with them, sexuality has an element of mystery (in the sacramental sense) to it. This is also why to overly dogmatize about some of these issues raised by sexuality is to forget our human limits in understanding and that our understanding is at times imperfect.

There is a logic at operation in the universe which is not ours. What has occurred in the world of the Fall regarding gender and sexuality may have some meaning which we cannot at this point fathom or grasp. God does work in mysterious ways.

And we who say human life is sanctified and valuable, and who can embrace and even celebrate life for the handicapped and the challenged, may have to find the sanctity which is also present in those whose gender or sexual orientation is inexplicable or different.

We are dealing with complex issues with implications for the lives of many. We do have to deal with these issues in the world of the fall. What are the limits of acceptable sexual behavior in human society?

Here we come back to the wisdom which is available to us through Scripture and Tradition.

Fr. Ted Bobosh

Merton on Nonviolence: “Nonviolence seeks to ‘win’ not by destroying or even by humiliating the adversary,” wrote Thomas Merton, “but by convincing him that there is a higher and more certain common good than can be attained by bombs and blood.

Nonviolence, ideally speaking, does not try to overcome the adversary by winning over him, but to turn him from an adversary into a collaborator by winning him over.”

This passage touches the root of my deep skepticism of the state or the political process as an active force for genuine peace. I can’t even begin to imagine a world where my own State, the U.S., will ever take the attitude toward any enemy that there is a higher common good for both parties if only both could strive together to attain it.

To be sure, “we” (identifying ourselves with the State) are convinced that there is a higher good, but we are equally convinced that we have either already attained it or are darn close, and it is “they” (the other state) who are holding it back or refusing to attain to our good already achieved or “seen.”

Conversely, Merton convinces me that peace begins with me, that the higher good really is far above me, and possibly, in the degree to which I succeed in attaining it, I can influence those around me sufficiently that corporately we might have an eventually sufficient influence on the State that it may at least act something like a peacemaker of the sort Merton describes. It’s the last part I really don’t believe.
Pieter Dykhorst

Caesar always leads: I have the impression that Copts in Egypt, like Christians in many countries, are asking for a particular freedom, not for freedom for everyone in the country.

But democracy is an all or none proposition. Christians cannot ask for particular freedoms, while asking that existential freedom be denied to those whom it wishes.

Liberalization is in the very nature of democracy, because it eventually expands to encompass all citizens. In the end, if you wish to deny the benefits of democracy to some, to the “not us,” or those who, for example, feel the need to divorce, then you must resort to a dictatorship and a set of religious laws: and Islam is the dominant religion, so the laws will be theirs, not yours. Democracy is all nor none. If you wish to dance with Caesar, you must remember that Caesar always leads. And Caesar is always an opportunist.

Archbishop Lazar (Puhalo)

Saint Virgin Mary’s Coptic Orthodox Church, also known as the Hanging Church, is one of the oldest churches in Egypt. A church was built on the site in the 3rd century.

Photo: Saint Virgin Mary’s Coptic Orthodox Church, also known as the Hanging Church, is one of the oldest churches in Egypt. A church was built on the site in the 3rd century.

Egyptians Coptics: The Copts here in Egypt tend to want either a full-blown secular state, a liberal democracy with rights and freedoms for everyone, including them, or else protection by a benevolent ruler from forces that would persecute them, as they think they had under Mubarak.

After 1400 years of either outright persecution or discriminatory treatment at best, it seems that these are understandable longings.

What is truly amazing about this is that the Coptic Church here is the healthiest church I have ever seen. Churches are full to over-flowing with multiple services on multiple days on the weekends.

Monasteries and convents are active and growing with young monks and nuns, often very accomplished people, living and working out of new or newly refurbished facilities. Impressive development services for poor villages and slums are undertaken by both the Coptic Orthodox and Coptic Evangelical churches. It all says to me that we Christians do better under duress than privilege.

Whatever the shape of Egypt’s political future looks like, I hope it doesn’t undermine this health.

Thomas Snowden

❖ IN COMMUNION / issue 61 / July 2011

Saints Cosmas & Damian: Unmercenary Physicians

Tuesday, July 26th, 2011

painting by Francesco di Stefano Pesellino of Cosmas and Damian attending a patient

Above: Painting by Francesco di Stefano Pesellino of Cosmas and Damian attending a patient.

Saints called unmercenary (or moneyless) physicians are those men and women who offered their healing services while refusing any payment and who, since their repose, continue to heal by their prayers those who call on them in faith.

On the Church calendar there are three pairs of unmercenary physicians named Cosmas and Damian. The martyrs associated with Rome were twin brothers who gave their money to the poor, setting aside only enough to devote their lives to the service of Christ in their neighbor.

According to one account, they were born in Arabia and lived as adults in Syria before coming to Rome. Raised by devout Christian parents, they led chaste lives and were granted by God the gift of healing the sick. By their generosity and kindness to all, the brothers converted many to Christ. The brothers told the sick, “It is not by our own power that we treat you, but by the power of Christ, the true God. Believe in Him and be healed.”

So strict were they in their determination not to take rewards that, according to legend, for a time one brother refused to speak to the other because he had accepted an apple.

Their life of service and their influence on the people around them led many into the Church, but also attracted the attention of the Roman authorities. When soldiers were sent to arrest the brothers, local Christians convinced the brothers to hide for a while until they could arrange their escape, but when others were apprehended in their place, Cosmas and Damian surrendered to the soldiers.

“We have done evil to no one,” they testified before Emperor Carinus. “We are not involved with the magic or sorcery of which we are accused. We treat the sick by the power of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and we take no payment for rendering aid to the sick, because our Lord commanded His disciples, ‘Freely have you received, freely give.’”

The emperor chose not to condemn them, but soon after the brothers were murdered by an envious physician whom they had regarded as a friend.

Their deaths occurred in 284.

The relics of Cosmas and Damian are in a church in Rome that bears their names. Consecrated in 527, it was the first church located on the territory of the Roman Forum. In pre-Christian times, it had been the Temple of Romulus.

The brothers’ feast day is July

❖ IN COMMUNION / issue 61 / July 2011

Recommended Reading – Summer IC 61

Tuesday, July 26th, 2011

Christian Peace and Nonviolence:
A Documentary History

edited by Michael Long
Orbis, 400 pages, $40

Christian Peace and Nonviolence is a major addition to any Christian library or, for that matter, to the library of anyone with a serious interest in war and peace. Michael Long has assembled a comprehensive survey of Christian voices for peace from the early days of the Church into the present day.

The book’s structure is historical, beginning with a selection of Old and New Testament scriptures on peace. Authors from the early Church include Justin Martyr, Athenagorus, Tertullian, Origen, Cyprian, Arnobius, Lactantius, Basil the Great, Pelagicus, Paulinus of Nola, Benedict of Nursia and Francis of Assisi. There are also extracts from the biography of Martin of Tours and accounts of the martyrdoms of Maximilian, Marcellus, and the brothers Boris and Gleb.

Erasmus of Rotterdam is included in a section of writings from the Reformation period. Among those represented in the 1600-1900 section that follows are George Fox, William Penn, John Woolman, William Lloyd Garrison, Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, Lucretia Mott, Jane Addams and Leo Tolstoy.

The book’s twentieth-century authors include Martin Luther King, Thomas Merton, Pope John XXIII, Oscar Romero, Stanley Hauerwas, John Howard Yoder, Dorothy Day, A.J. Muste and André Trocmé. The anthology concludes with twelve entries written in the past eleven years.

While the collection has a distinctly western orientation (the only Orthodox authors in the post-Schism sections are Fr. John McGuckin and myself), it belongs in the library of any Christian, Catholic, Protestant or Orthodox. The documents demonstrate that a nonviolent way of life and struggle is not a footnote to Christian history but, in the words of Stanley Hauerwas, “lies at the heart of what it means to be a follower of Christ.” He predicts this book “will become an essential teaching resource not only for thinking through nonviolence but also for understanding the very character of Christianity.”

Note: In September, the Orthodox Research Institute is publishing a book with an Eastern Christian tilt that will be a useful companion volume: For the Peace from Above: an Orthodox Resource Book on War, Peace and Nationalism. The editors are Fr. Hildo Bos and myself.
– Jim Forest

A Life Together:
Wisdom of Community from the Christian East
by Bishop Seraphim Sigrist
Paraclete Press, 200 pages, $16

An alternative title for this book might have been “Gatherings,” because Bishop Seraphim uncovers the experience of unity that became evident in Father Alexander Men’s “gatherings” during the last two decades of the Soviet era. The preface to the book explores the history of these “gatherings,” all the while reflecting on the gossamer and yet robust Orthodox Church transformed by the Holy Spirit. For example, the author quotes a paradox of Fr. Alexander: “Christianity is the religion of death, instantly transformed into life.” Readers will appreciate how the author employs quotes from Orthodox and non-Orthodox sources as he explores “Sobornost.” This book is ideal for discussion groups, inspiration for sermons, and contemplative reflection. If you are troubled by the lack of compassion in yourself and others, this book offers a way to increase compassion. But its way will prove both dangerous and joyful.
– Ioannis Freeman

When Hearts Become Flame:
An Eastern Orthodox Approach to the dia-Logos of Pastoral Counseling
by Stephen Muse
Orthodox Research Institute, 342 pages, $20

This book is arguably one of the best on pastoral counseling to have been published in the past twenty years. The author discusses how pastoral counselors must practice personal readiness in order to receive what God manifests in encounters between counselor and client. Muse follows the ancient ascetical path of Orthodox Christian therapy to teach and disclose a state of personal readiness, which leads toward prayerful listening not only to the “other,”or client, but also attention to subtle windows into heaven that appear in sessions. Counseling sessions become holy icons.

But this book has an audience far wider than pastoral counselors, because it is not so much a “how-to-do” text as it engages every reader in basic questions. Do I listen well? How do I discern the will of God when helping others? What is important in my encounters with someone? Do I pay attention when others speak to me? What is healing?

Make this a text to share among your friends. Give a copy to your favorite priests.
– Ioannis Freeman


Giver of Life: The Holy Spirit in Orthodox Tradition
by Fr. John Oliver
Paraclete Press, 129 pages, $16

An ancient yet contemporary voice from the Orthodox Church’s view of the Holy Spirit is present in this book. Fr. John discusses the invitatory prayer of the Holy Spirit, “O heavenly King,” according to its nine parts in this long-awaited text. Along with a discussion of each part, such as “the Spirit of Truth” and “Giver of life,” the author illustrates the mystical connection between the Spirit and ordinary ways that the Holy Spirit creates, corrects and refreshes the Creation. “He restores … but also chastens, and both restoration and chastening are proofs of His love.”

Fr. John presents the Holy Spirit in a familiar yet fresh way. For example, “When conflict with other persons brings our impurities to the surface, those persons become angels of healing.” What the Spirit fashions is a therapeutic milieu inside the Church, which provides a place for “healing” of effects from sin to occur, instead of symptom “relief.”

Of special interest is the author’s watchful approach to differentiating symptom relief from healing. Truth—“the Spirit of truth”— serves as the foundation for this difference, whereby relief is a short-lived outcome from engaging “half truths.” Half truths are thoughts that the devil “whispers into our minds,” which often bring initial relief from suffering followed by emotional extremes such as despair or smug pride.
– Ioannis Freeman

• I Came that They May Have Life
• Hagia Sophia: Light of our History
• Beauty will Save the World
• From Heraclitus to Elder Porphyrios

These four booklets are by Archimandrite Vaileios, abbot of Iveron Monastery on Mt. Athos.

The emphases of the first include the characteristics and actions of divine love, the patience of Christ as He knocks at the door to our hearts, and the radical way that the Lord of life offers healing to everyone. The author’s view of divine love provides a foundation for the entire series: “Love is the manner of teaching the truth that frees man.” Indeed, as stated in the last volume, “the Lord did not come to teach truths of a theoretical and juridical nature or to offer justification in worldly terms.”

Hagia Sophia poses an allegory on the “loss” of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople to the Ottoman Muslims. The allegory is also a paradox, for “in the Church, it is a proven fact that when you lose something important and the loss pains you, you are offered something more precious … which you would not have gained without the earlier loss.”

In the third booklet the ultimate beauty is seen as selfless service to others. “Exertion leaves you refreshed. You love the humble. You feel a bond of brotherhood with those who suffer.” The author sees such beauty in the service of Elder Porphyrios (1906-1991).

The fourth text, explores the theme of real poverty of spirit. Poverty of spirit identifies all that passes away, and adheres to the “gold” that lasts. He depicts Heraclitus as unconcerned with fame or rebukes from others. He presents Elder Porphyrios as “a divine child playing.” Confessing to him was “like holding a conversation, because he helped you to say what you were thinking.”

The booklets can be ordered via the publisher’s web site: www.alexanderpress.com . Each costs $6 to $8 (Canadian).
– Ioannis Freeman

❖ IN COMMUNION / issue 61 / July 2011

Review of Fr Alexander Webster’s book “The Virtue of War”

Friday, July 22nd, 2011

from In Communion / Spring 2004 / issue 33

The Virtue of War: Reclaiming the Classic Christian Traditions East and West
by Alexander F.C. Webster and Darrell Cole
Salisbury MA: Regina Orthodox Press, 2004; $20

This book is a work of polemic. The opening chapter is a clarion call to the Christian West to realize the danger of militant Islam and gird itself to fight back and defeat it. “Nine-Eleven” is presented as a belated moment of awakening for the West, and the purpose of this book is to convince Christians of the “virtue of war,” as the title puts it: that is, to demonstrate that in certain circumstances (which include the present circumstances of an Islamic attack on Western civilization) war is not only a regrettable necessity, but a positive good, in which good ends are achieved by the virtuous means of warfare.

The book is co-written by an Orthodox priest and theologian, Fr. Alexander Webster, and a Western theologian, of probably Protestant credentials, though with a deep and articulate sympathy for the Western Catholic tradition of the just war. The aim is to demonstrate broadly-based Christian support for an offensive war against evil, and especially to include the Orthodox tradition, that has often been presented as viewing war in deeply mistrustful terms. The opening chapter, as part of its clarion call, presents an alarming account of Islam, centrally and essentially committed to jihad in military terms, in the course of which there are several references to Orthodoxy’s long familiarity with Islam, as compared with the West.

This might be a good place to begin an assessment of the book, as it is certainly true that the Orthodox have a long familiarity with Islam, reaching right back to the beginnings of that religion. In the centuries since, Orthodox have often had Islamic states as close neighbors, and also lived cheek-by-jowl with Muslims, in Palestine and later under the Ottomans and the states that succeeded that empire. At times this relationship has been sharply antagonistic; so it was in the first century or so of Islam, when the Umayyad Empire sought to take Constantinople. But more often, the Orthodox have found a modus vivendi with their Muslim neighbors, as the Western crusaders found out to their annoyance, when they discovered that the Byzantine Emperor was engaged in diplomatic negotiations with the Muslims, to their mind simply enemies of the faith.

Plenty more examples could be cited for this Orthodox quest for a modus vivendi: Manuel Komnenos’ modification of the rite of conversion for Muslims, making it clear that Orthodox and Muslim worshiped the same God, however different their conceptions of him; Gregory Palamas’ favorable impressions of the mullahs with whom he met and engaged in theological discussion during the couple of years he spent as a prisoner of the Sultan (only Palamas’ more conventional, “apocalyptic” view of Islam is cited here).

In contrast, the West has tended to see Islam in terms of extremes: either the infidel, against whom one waged crusades, or a representative of an alluring “orientalism,” explored by the late Edward Said in his famous book of that name. Fr. Alexander, in his chapters in this book, seems anxious that the Orthodox should not be left out of this crusading drive against Islam, which is very much the fruit of such extremes of perception on the part of the West.

The chapters by Fr. Alexander are not a little confused. He seems to accept the virtual pacifism of the Church before Constantine, and seems uneasily aware that the Byzantine attitude to war was ambivalent; he speaks of a “penitential gloom” in Orthodox attitudes to war, but it is this that he seeks to dispel. His argument advances along several lines. First, he draws attention to the bloodthirsty God of the Old Testament. He is certainly right to warn against the potential Marcionism of opposing a God of love in the New Testament to a God of armies in the Old, but in his resolution he seems to obscure the prevailing impression left by the Lord’s teaching.

The canonical tradition poses a fairly daunting challenge. As he admits, there is virtually no exception to the canonical requirement of penance for any Christian soldier who killed in war before the eleventh century, and it is only thereafter in the West that this requirement comes to be forgotten. He might have mentioned, but does not, how the Byzantine Emperor Nikephoros Phokas – disturbed that Muslim warriors went into war with the promise of eternal bliss if they fell in battle, whereas Christian warriors had no such promise, but rather faced penance if they killed – pleaded with the patriarch and the bishops to change this canonical regulation, but in vain. Instead, Fr. Alexander tries to suggest that the canon of St. Basil requiring three years’ penance (that is, three years’ exclusion from communion) is in some way ambivalent.

Another argument draws attention to the Byzantine military martyrs: but what is striking about these martyrs is that none of them died in battle, indeed in many cases their military careers are largely, or entirely, posthumous (e.g., the historical Procopios or Demetrios). These are not glorified combatant soldiers, but rather notable participants in the struggle against evil, and defenders of Christian cities and peoples.

Fr. Alexander draws attention to prayers for the armed forces in the Divine Liturgy; true, he mentions the threefold petition for peace at the beginning of the Great Ekteny, but not the fivefold petition for peace in what the Greeks call the Eirenika. It is clear on which side the weight falls. A good deal is made of the services for the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

Here we touch on something that needs to be brought out into the open. There is no question that, in the wake of the conversion of Constantine, the Church, both in the East and the West, lent not only its prayers for the peace and prosperity of the Empire, but also its blessing (within the limits noted above) to armed Defense of the Empire.

But is this part of the Church’s tradition, or a betrayal of it? The way in which the cult of the Holy Cross became part of the Imperial cult was dangerously close to idolatry, even if it is reflected in prayers and songs we still use. The way in which these remnants of the Christian imperial cult have come to serve a questionable role in modern Orthodox nation states might be regarded as one of the more dire consequences of “phyletism,” condemned, at least notionally, as a heresy by all Orthodox Christians.

I have concentrated in this review on Fr. Alexander’s contribution, because this is an Orthodox journal (and, indeed, the Orthodox Peace Fellowship is singled out for criticism by Fr. Alexander). The rest of the book presents the Western case. There we have a fine presentation of the Western case for a just (or justifiable) war, and an exploration of its history. Some good points are made, notably that the idea of a just war in which the virtue of the warrior is displayed and tested actually provides a means by which justice in war can be maintained. It is still the case, however, that Dr. Cole favors quite a hawkish conception of the “just war”; he is unhappy with the idea of such a war as a “mere” last resort. His position here leaves this reviewer with the impression that for him a just war can actually be a good thing, something that can be pursued with enthusiasm, rather than regret.

Whatever the merits of some of the arguments advanced, this book’s wider purpose is to justify a modern crusade against Islam – even though it recognizes, though to no noticeable effect, that Islamic terrorism is not actually a tautology – and calls on Western civilization to commit itself to such a crusade. This seems to me to leave no ground for questioning the right of the United States, or any other state powerful enough, to set itself up as a world policeman, the consequences of which seem to me profoundly alarming.

For a world power to take upon itself the role of being a world policeman raises Cicero’s question: Quis custodiet custodes ipsos – who will guard the guards themselves? The damage that well-intentioned people can do with the resources of a state (especially one so wealthy and powerfully armed as the US), as opposed what terrorists can do (and I certainly am not defending terrorism, or minimizing the guilt of terrorist action), seems to me immense. Consider Kosovo.

Look even at Iraq, where it more and more looks as if the military action there has destabilized the country and region in ways that are likely to have unfortunate long-lasting consequences. Simply in terms of numbers (which are ultimately irrelevant), the body count from allied action in Iraq exceeds that of the terrorists – and there is also the question, still quite unresolved, as to whether attacking Iraq had any impact on al Qaedi, or even was ever expected to. The metaphor of the policemen makes one think of friendly people keeping the peace. But the reality depends on who you are.

Here in England there is growing consciousness of the dangers of “institutionalized racism”: the policeman is not perceived as friendly – and often isn’t – if you are a black and living in South or East London. I know about this from teaching in South London for ten years. Similarly in Iraq: for a great many people there, the American “policemen” are not welcome, and thus are finding it more and more difficult to fulfil a police role. The atrocities in the Shia holy cities, almost certainly the work of Sunnis, are blamed by the Shiites on the Americans.

But are such factors irrelevant to the book, The Virtue of War? They would be (or only tangentially relevant) if the book confined itself to a discussion of the question of war and the Christian conscience, but it doesn’t. The first chapter – drawing on a one-sided use of Huntingdon’s “Clash of Civilizations” thesis – is, as I said above, a clarion call for Christians to support the American attack on militant Islam, supported by arguments that Islam as a whole is potentially militant.

It is interesting to see what Christos Yannaras makes of the Huntingdon thesis, which sees Orthodoxy as a separate civilization from the West, something Yannaras welcomes with undue enthusiasm, though I think he is right in saying that Orthodoxy has at least as much in common with Islam as with the West. This might lead one to the conclusion, which Yannaras does not seem to draw, that we Orthodox are in an unusual position to mediate in what could become a fatal fault-line for the history of the 21st century.

– Fr. Andrew Louth

Fr. Andrew Louth is an Orthodox priest of the Diocese of Sourozh in Great Britain and Professor of Patristic and Byzantine Studies, University of Durham, UK.

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A related text:

Here is a response I made to an essay (published in St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly in 2003) by Fr Alexander Webster in which he argued that war should be recognized as a “lesser good” rather than a “lesser evil.”

Jim Forest

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St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly vol 47 / 1 (2003) pp 65-67

War a “Lesser Good”?

by Jim Forest

In Fr Alexander Webster’s argument that the Orthodox Church should regard war as “a lesser good” rather than “a lesser evil,” it is striking how meager is his attention to the New Testament. Does he really imagine Jesus sanctioning war and obliging his followers to take part in it? The Savior became incarnate in a country enduring the humiliation of military occupation, yet failed to side in word or action with the Zealot opposition. There is no Gospel account of him sanctioning anyone’s death. In the one instance we know of when an issue of capital punishment was brought before him, he succeeded in saving the life of a woman who might otherwise have been stoned to death. When the apostle Peter used a sword in an attempt to defend Jesus from arrest, the injury Peter caused was healed by Christ—his final healing miracle before crucifixion. Jesus responded to Peter with words Fr Alexander has omitted from his essay: “He who lives by the sword will perish by the sword.” Jesus’ only act of violence in the New Testament narrative was to use a whip—not a life-endangering weapon—to cleanse the Temple. The only sword he wields is the sword of the truth. Again and again he insists on forgiveness. In the Beatitudes he blesses the merciful and refers to peacemakers as children of God. Following the way of the Cross, Christ gives the example of nonresistance. Quite literally he gives himself for the life of the world.

In the first three centuries Christians were notable for their refusal to kill, a situation that was problematic for converts in the military or in certain governmental positions. Catechetical texts coming down to us from the early Church put a special stress on the obligation not to kill either in war or through abortion. Substantial penances were established for those who broke this discipline. Even after Constantine’s conversion and the end of anti-Christian persecution, it remained obligatory for priests, deacons and iconographers not to kill anyone, not even in self-defense. These canons survive unchanged into our own day.

However convinced Fr Alexander may be that certain wars may be regarded as justifiable or even good, he would be forbidden by Church law to serve at the altar if he were to kill in such a “good” war—a prohibition one would assume should also prevent a priest from encouraging or blessing others to kill. Fr Alexander seems oblivious to the values that stand behind this prohibition. Does the Church forbid its priests doing what it regards (according to Fr Alexander) as “a lesser good”? What do these canons reveal about eucharistie life?

Canons do not, however, always solve the problem of what to do in the crucible of life. Many Christians faced with evil forces, such as St Alexander Nevsky, have found no nonviolent option in responding to attack but armed resistance—though later in life, struggling to avoid calamitous defeat, the same prince lost the respect of many fellow Russians for prudent compromises he struck with the Golden Horde.

Since the age of Constan tine, time and again faithful Christians of every rank have found themselves drawn into war. Soldiers and their weapons have been blessed by pastors and bishops. We must recall, however, that often the wars on which blessings have been showered were not events which can be regarded as bringing any mortal credit on those who fought in them, however heroic and patriotic the soldiers may have been: wars for the expansion of empire, wars of national hubris, wars of manifest destiny, wars of ethic cleansing, wars to gain valuable resources.

Consider what might be regarded as the very best of recent wars: World War II. Here there was an aggressive enemy driven by totalitarian and racist ideology willing to kill not only opposing soldiers but large categories of noncombatants. Many people could find no way to respond to the war imposed on them but to fight back with whatever weapons they had. At last the Allied counter-attack resulted in city bombing, fire storms and finally the use of nuclear weapons. There were hundreds of thousands of noncombatant deaths which, in today’s “Newspeak,” would be regarded as “collateral damage.” Many of those who fought against Hitler and his allies, though possessing medals for heroism on the battlefield, have had to live with nightmarish memories of the killing of noncombatants and other terrible memories of what occurs in the actuality of war. They may well regard the war in its overall objectives as justifiable and unavoidable, but certainly not good. Indeed, one cannot even speak of the killing of the guilty as good deeds.

For all his interest in what in the Roman Catholic Church has come to be known as the Just War Theory or Doctrine, Fr Alexander seems to take little interest in one of the key elements of that doctrine: the protection of noncombatants. In the reality of modern war, it is the noncombatant who is the typical casualty. In the age of St Alexander Nevsky soldiers fought soldiers, but in our world when bullets fly and bombs fall, it is the most defenseless members of society who are the most likely to die or be maimed. Can anyone, least of all a follower of the Gospel, speak of events which claim the lives of so many innocents—mainly women, children and the aged—as “a lesser good”?

Were states to call on Orthodox Christians to take part in the destruction of churches or the wholesale burning of icons, there would be organized resistance by the faithful with the hierarchy speaking out boldly. But when it is the destruction of human beings, bearers of the image of God, what is most striking is the cooperation of the faithful in it and the near silence of their shepherds. True, one does occasionally discover theologians who raise questions about war. One of them, Fr Stanley Harakas, is briefly if dismissively referred to in the Webster essay. But one rarely meets an Orthodox Christian who has heard about such debate regarding these questions. The questions are raised in academic journals and forums and, sadly, there they tend to remain.

[end]

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