Source: Public Orthodoxy

Daria Morozova
Visiting Researcher at the University of Exeter (UK)

The “Edict” of the World Russian People’s Council caused controversial reactions on the side of theologians. Some were quite unexpected, like the essay by Rev. Dr. John Chryssavgis entitled “Casting the First Stone of Heresy.” Together with the corresponding image, this title represents patriarch Kirill as an unfortunate harlot, at whom the bloodthirsty crowd of the Pharisees throws its stones. This cannot but look puzzling for someone who two years ago had to flee from the Russian rockets blessed by the patriarch. For it is not the patriarch on whose head the stones are falling—it is Ukrainian people: women and children. They were in fact condemned to death by the patriarch, who blessed an aggressive war against them, considering them not Orthodox enough.

It took me efforts to understand that Fr. John is far from supporting Kirill. Moreover, in his opinion, the accusation of heresy is not enough for Kirill, because he is more than a heretic: he is a criminal. The problem is that nobody can blame him, since the entire church hierarchy is infected with the same spirit of phyletism and pride. And if no one should “throw the first stone,” then what is left for us is to let the Harlot of Babylon proceed in peace.

This gesture of surrender betrays a kind of apathy, strikingly different from the ideas expressed by Fr. John in the social teaching document of the Patriarchate of Constantinople, “For the Life of the World.” (Participation in its translation into Ukrainian had a great influence on my whole vision of Christianity). Whatever stands behind this turn—disappointment with the institutions of the Church, or sublime ethics of universal guilt—it does lead to a certain relativism.

The remarks of the respected theologian articulate his reluctance to reason within the categories of Byzantine dogmatics. Indeed, as every Byzantinist knows, in some cases the definition of the border between heresy and orthodoxy was defined by political passions. But this does not mean that orthodoxy—or truth—does not exist at all. This only means that the mistakes of the past should be thoroughly reviewed and corrected.

Quite in the spirit of postmodern irony, Fr. Chryssavgis characterizes heresy as a kind of an eccentric vision (“weird beyond belief”). Historical heresies, however, were far from such self-understanding and rather identified themselves with the fullness of truth, fiercely persecuting the dissenters. It is enough to recall the iconoclastic persecutions of the eighth century, Dioscorus’ repression of the Diophysites in fifth-century Alexandria, or the imposing of Arianism in the 4th century, when Chrysostom complained that the Orthodox had never issued such tyrannical decrees against heretics as did those against them (De Babila, 3: PG 50, 537).

Perhaps not all “pious” emperors followed Chrysostom’s teaching that “Christians should overcome delusion not by coercion and violence” (ibid); but still, in my subjective opinion, the hallmark of true heresy is self-absorption. Whilst Orthodox teaching is spacious enough for various approaches and therefore can be expressed in completely different conceptual languages, heresy creates a totalitarian atmosphere. A clear example of this is the new version of “Russian Orthodoxy” from Patriarch Kirill, which does not tolerate the slightest shadow of dissent (cf. his ban on clerics for changing just one word in the prayer for victory) and deals with opponents with the help of arrests and bulldozers. The notion of the “Russian world” itself betrays the universal claims of this teaching.

Here passes the border, which the author does not want to notice: the border between Kirill’s imperialism and other types of nationalism, which are indeed characteristic of all Local Churches. Indeed, is it possible to equate Greek folk dances in the church, Romanian flags near the altar, or the desire of Ukrainians to pray in their native language, with the blessing of mass murders and the consecration of nuclear weapons for the sake of the great national idea? The border between these two types of thinking is as fundamental as the line between the desire to live and express oneself, and the desire to destroy others for the sake of self-affirmation.

Kirill’s anti-Christian version of “Orthodoxy” already lives in the minds of millions, fuelling misanthropy in some and turning others away from the Church. It is not going to dissolve into the air, even if the patriarch will be personally imprisoned. Therefore, the exposure of the doctrine of the “Russian world” as a heresy is no less urgent—possibly, more urgent—than criminal prosecution against Kirill.

Returning to the question in the title of Fr. John’s essay, the first stone in this story was cast a long time ago. It was cast by Patriarch Kirill, who since at least 2007 has been publicly preaching a “faith in Russia” instead of the faith in Christ, preparing the ground for an aggressive war against his neighbours. Thus, today the question is not who will throw the first stone, but how to stop the stones, projectiles, and ballistic missiles blessed by the patriarch to punish “schismatics” (Ukrainians). Some say that today the convocation of the Pan-Orthodox Council for the official deposition of the Moscow Patriarch would lead to a new Great Schism. This risk is realistic. But even if local Churches are not ready to resort to such decisive steps, they should at least avoid the misleading rhetoric of relativism. Calling “a spade a spade,” as Fr. John recommends, we should name patriarch Kirill both a criminal and a heretic. After all, Jesus himself did not hesitate to call the Pharisees sons of the devil (sf. John 8:44).

ABOUT AUTHOR

Daria Morozova
Visiting Researcher at the University of Exeter (UK)