Once more about church canons
The word “canonical,” a term that until recently was the exclusive preserve of theologians, has assumed a deadly meaning in our society. One can easily come across it on television, in newspapers and magazines, and hear it in election-campaign speeches and from church pulpits. The impression is that Ukrainian society has split into canonical and non-canonical parts, rather than “Regional” and “Orange.”
The past stormy years (in the canonical meaning, too) have seen the formation of various subtle shades of “non-canonicity” in the relationship, if that is the correct word, between the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, the Moscow Patriarchate (UOC MP), and the other Christian denominations of Ukraine. For instance, although the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church (UGCC) is a fully and unconditionally canonical one, its relations with the pro-Moscow Orthodox Church are by no means better than those of the Kyiv Patriarchate clergy.
There is also a noticeable difference of shades depending on who is the primate of an Orthodox church. The deadly sin of “non-canonicity” is being exclusively blamed on the Kyiv Patriarchate, whereas members of the Ukrainian Autocephalous Church can admittedly count at least on purgatory. In reality, everything stems from the history of personal relationships between Moscow and Kyiv hierarchs.
Owing to the overuse of the word “canonicity,” our society has formed the opinion that a canon is a law that rigidly governs contemporary church life. However, this is not at all so because, for starters, most canons were drawn up and implemented in the first millennium AD, in the era of ecumenical councils, when the life, structures, problems and contradictions of the Christian community were radically different from ours.
Prof. Alexander Schmemann, a well-known theologian and member of the Orthodox Church in America recognized by the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC), says, “A canon law is a code that includes resolutions of apostolic, ecumenical and some local councils, rules derived from various national writings, and is the ‘yardstick’ of Orthodoxy. But it is a striking feature of modern Orthodoxy that referring to canons often leads to diametrically opposed and mutually contradictory demands and statements. We seem to be speaking either about different holy traditions (canons) or interpreting the same things in different ways. The whole point is that the Orthodox idea of a ‘holy tradition’ cannot be reduced to texts and resolutions to which everybody who wants to prove something only has to refer.”
It should be emphasized that the key words of current disputes — “autocephaly,” “jurisdiction,” etc. — are not used at all in the holy canons, so reference is usually made to all kinds of past “precedents.” Such references have always been considered quite legitimate, but it is also clear that one must not identify all past things (just because they occurred in the past) with holy tradition.
Unfortunately, this creates a temptation to refer to those “strata” of the past and those “traditions” from which it seems easiest to extract “proofs” and “precedents.” With a certain sleight of hand, one can find a “precedent” and a canonical “justification” for almost anything. It is also telling that all historical negotiations about autocephaly were conducted by states, not churches, which naturally used their own methods. The most illustrative example of this is the way the autocephaly of the Russian Church was negotiated in the 16 th century, a process in which the church itself practically did not participate.
To illustrate the ambiguity of ancient canons, I will cite the latest example: the bitter dispute over the Surozh diocese (ROC) in Britain, which may spark a serious conflict between the Constantinople and Moscow patriarchates. Bishop Basil (Osborn) of Amphipolos, the primate of this diocese, one of the few йmigrй communities that remained under ROC jurisdiction after the October Revolution, recently quit the Patriarchate of Moscow and joined Constantinople, after submitting a polite notice of his resignation to Patriarch Alexy II. In addition to Bishop Basil, the Constantinople Patriarchate also accepted into its fold the diocese’s most authoritative clergy and laity, a move that the Moscow Patriarchate could not accept with equanimity.
The face-off between the two patriarchates is now in full swing. The most important thing for us is that both sides are appealing to canons. The Holy Synod of the Constantinople Patriarchate is referring to Canons 9, 17 and 28 of the 4 th Ecumenical Council (451). Canon 28, for instance, has been interpreted since Byzantine times as the definition of the supremacy of Constantinople’s honor, and, in particular, it authorizes “a bishop or other clergyman offended by ‘his own’ metropolitan to appeal to the reigning throne of Constantinople.” This gives the Ecumenical Patriarch ample grounds to take Bishop Basil under his protection. It seems impossible to disprove this interpretation of Rule 28, if one abides by canons and respects the resolutions of ecumenical councils.
Yet the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church ruled that the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s decision was non-canonical on the basis of Rule 33 of the Holy Apostles (“No foreign bishop shall be accepted without a letter of representation”) and Canon 2 of the 2nd Ecumenical Council (“Bishops are not to go beyond their dioceses to churches lying outside their bounds”). How can this be resolved? Incidentally, history says that in canonical disputes both sides usually consider their positions well-founded by quoting a respective holy tradition.
The canonical “encounter” of these two leading churches continues. Although the Russian patriarch mentions the name of Patriarch Bartholomew I during his sermons and prayers, relations between the two patriarchates claiming leadership in the Orthodox world remain rather tense. While diplomatic politesse reigns on the official level, many Russian publications, formally outside the Moscow Patriarchate’s control, resort to making vicious comments about the “Istanbul patriarch.” One of the main reasons for this is, undoubtedly, Phanar’s noticeable, albeit evasive and inconsistent, Ukrainian policy, because losing the Ukrainian Church will spell death for the Moscow Patriarchate: more is at stake here than the loss of the Orthodox Diocese of Surozh in the UK, which has just a few dozen parishes.
In conclusion, I will quote the Rev. Alexander Schmemann: “Very few pages will be found in the entire history of Orthodoxy that are as dark as those of ‘modern times,’ which for Orthodoxy — with some notable exceptions — was a time of divisions, provincialism, theological sclerosis, and, last but not least, nationalism.”
