The catholicity
of the Church
Archpriest
George Florovsky
The
Church: her nature and task: The catholic mind. The new reality. The new creation. Historical antinomies.
The theanthropic union and the
Church.
Christ
conquered the world. This victory consists in His having created His own Church.
In the midst of the vanity and poverty, of the weakness and suffering of human
history, He laid the foundations of a “new being.” The Church is Christ’s work
on earth; it is the image and abode of His blessed Presence in the world. And
on the day of Pentecost The Holy Spirit descended on the Church, which was then
represented by the twelve Apostles and those who were with them. He entered
into the world in order to abide with us and act more fully than He had ever
acted before; “for the Spirit was not yet
given, because Jesus was not yet glorified” (John 7:39 ). The Holy Spirit descended once and for
always. This is a tremendous and unfathomable mystery. He lives and abides
ceaselessly in the church. In the Church we receive the Spirit of adoption
(Rom. 8:15 ). Through
reaching towards and accepting the Holy Ghost we become eternally God’s. In the
Church our salvation is perfected; the sanctification and transfiguration, the theosis of the human race is
accomplished.
Extra Ecclesiam nulla
salus: [Outside the Church there is no salvation]. All the categorical
strength and point of this aphorism lies in its tautology. Outside the Church
there is no salvation, because salvation
is the Church. For salvation is the revelation of the way for every one who
believes in Christ's name. This revelation is to be found only in the Church.
In the Church, as in the Body of Christ, in its theanthropic organism, the
mystery of incarnation, the mystery of the “two natures,” indissolubly united,
is continually accomplished. In the Incarnation of the Word is the fullness of
revelation, a revelation not only of God, but also of man. “For the Son of God
became the Son of Man,” writes St. Irenaeus, “to the end that man too might
become the son of God” (Adv. Haere. 3:10, 2). In Christ, as God‑Man, the
meaning of human existence is not only revealed, but accomplished. In Christ
human nature is perfected, it is renewed, rebuilt, created anew. Human destiny
reaches its goal, and henceforth human life is, according to the word of the Apostle,
“hid with Christ in God” (Coloss.
3:3). In this sense Christ is the “Last Adam” (1 Cor. 15:45 ), a true man. In Him is the measure and
limit of human life. He rose “As the
first fruits of them that are asleep” (1 Cor. 15:20 -22). He ascended into Heaven, and sitteth
at the right hand of God. His Glory is the glory of all human existence. Christ
has entered the pre‑eternal glory; He has entered it as Man and has called the
whole of mankind to abide with Him and in Him. “God, being rich in mercy, for
His great love wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead through our
trespasses, quickened us together with Christ ... and raised us up with Him,
and made us to sit with Him in the heavenly places, in Christ Jesus” (Eph.
2:4-6). Therein lies the mystery of the Church as Christ's Body. The Church is
fulness, (Τò πληρωμα) that is, fulfilment, completion
(Eph. 1:23 ). In this
manner St. John Chrysostom explains the words of the Apostle: “The Church is
the fulfilment of Christ in the same manner as the head completes the body and
the body is completed by the head. Thus we understand why the Apostle sees that
Christ, as the Head needs all His members. Because if many
of us were not, one the hand, one the foot, one yet another member, His body
would not be complete. Thus His body is formed of all the members. This means, “That the head will be complete, only when
the body is perfect; when we all are most firmly united and strengthened” (In Ephes. Hom. 3, 2; Migne, P.G. Ixii. c. 26).
Bishop Theophanes repeats the explanation of Chrysostom: “The Church is the
fulfilment of Christ in the same manner as the tree is the fulfilment of the
grain. All that is contained in the grain in a condensed manner, receives its
full development in the tree ... He Himself is complete and all‑perfect, but
not yet has He drawn mankind to Himself in final completeness. It is only
gradually that mankind enters into Communion with Him and so gives a new
fulness to His work, which thereby attains its full accomplishment (Explan. Of Ep. To Ephes. M. 1893, 2. pp. 93-94. For
the same point of view, cf. the late Very Rev. J. Armitage Robinson, St. Paul’s
Epistle to the Ephesians, pp.
44-45, I. 403; short ed. pp. 57-60).
The
Church is completeness itself; it is the continuation and the fulfilment of the
theanthropic union. The Church is transfigured and regenerated mankind. The
meaning of this regeneration and transfiguration is that in the Church mankind becomes one unity, “in one body” (Eph. 2:16 ). The life of the Church is unity and
union. The body is “knit together” and “increaseth” (Col
2:19 ) in unity of Spirit,
in unity of love. The realm of the Church is unity. And of course this unity is
no outward one, but is inner, intimate, organic. It is the unity of the living
body, the unity of the organism. The Church is a unity not only in the sense
that it is one and unique; it is a unity, first of all, because its very being
consists in reuniting separated and divided mankind. It is this unity which is the “sobornost” or catholicity of the Church.
In the Church humanity passes over into another plane, begins a new manner of
existence. A new life becomes possible, a true, whole and complete life, a
catholic life, “in the unity of the Spirit, in the bond of peace (Eph. 4:3). A
new existence begins, a new principle of life, “Even as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be
in Us ... that they may be one even as We are one” (John 17:21-23).
This
is the mystery of the final reunion in the image of the Unity of the Holy
Trinity. It is realized in the life and construction of the Church, it is the mystery of sobornost, the mystery of
catholicity.
The inner quality of catholicity.
The catholicity of the Church is not
a quantitative or a geographical conception. It does not at all depend on the
world‑wide dispersion of the faithful. The universality of the Church is the
consequence or the manifestation, but not the cause or the foundation of its
catholicity. The world‑wide extension or the universality of the Church is only
an outward sign, one that is not absolutely necessary. The Church was catholic
even when Christian communities were but solitary rare islands in a sea of
unbelief and paganism. And the Church will remain catholic even unto the end of
time when the mystery of the “falling away” will be revealed, when the Church
once more will dwindle to a “small flock.” “When
the Son of Man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth?” (Luke 18:8). The
Metropolitan Philaret expressed himself very adequately on this point: “If a
city or a country falls away from the universal Church, the latter will still
remain an integral, imperishable body” (Opinions
and Statements of Philaret, Metropolitan of Moscow, Concerning the Orthodox
Church in the East, St. Petersburg, 1886, p. 53). Philaret uses here
the word “universal” in the sense of catholicity. The conception of catholicity
cannot be measured by its wide‑world expansion; universality does not express
it exactly. Καθολικη from Καθ óλου means,
first of all, the inner wholeness and integrity of the Church's life. We are
speaking here of wholeness, not only of communion, and in any
case not of a simple empirical communion. Καθ óλου is not
the same as Κατα παντóς; it belongs not to the phenomenal
and empirical, but to the noumenal and ontological plane; it describes the very
essence, not the external manifestations. We feel this already in the pre‑Christian
use of these words, beginning from Socrates. If catholicity also means universality,
it certainly is not an empirical universality, but an ideal one; the communion
of ideas, not of facts, is what it has in view. The first Christians when using
the words ‘Ekklisía Katholikí (Εκκλησια Καθολικη) never meant a world‑wide
Church Great Church Antioch : “Where there is a bishop, let there
be the whole multitude; just as where Jesus Christ is, there too is the
Catholic Church” (Ignat Smyrn. 8:2).
These words express the same idea as does the promise: “Where two or three are gathered together in
My name, there am I in the midst of them” (Mt 18:19 -20). It is this mystery of gathering
together (μυστηριον της συναξεως, Mystírion
tis sinákseos) that the word catholicity expresses. Later on St. Cyril of Jerusalem explained the
word “catholicity” which is used in the Creed in the traditional manner of his
Church. The word “Church” means the “gathering together of all in one union;”
therefore it is called a “gathering” (εκκλεσια, Ekklisía). The Church is called catholic, because
it spreads over all the universe and subjects the whole of the human race to
righteousness, because also in the Church the dogmas are taught “fully, without
any omission, catholically, and completely” (καθολικως και ανελλειπως) because, again, in the Church every kind of sin is cured
and healed” (Catech. 18:23; Migne P.G. 33 c.
1044). Here again catholicity is understood as an inner quality. Only in
the West, during the struggle against the Donatists was the word “catholica”
used in the sense of “universality,” in opposition to the geographical
provincialism of the Donatists (Cf. Pierre
Batiffol, Le Catholicisme de St.
Augustin, I; Paris, 1920, p. 212 — “Rappelons que le nom ‘catholique’ a
servi à qualifier la Grande Eglise par opposition aux hérétiques … Le nom est
vraisemblablement de création populaire et apparait en Orient au second siècle.
Les tractatores du 4. siècle, qui lui
cherchent une signification étymologique et savante, veulent y voir
l’expression soit de la perfection intégrale de la foi de l’Eglise, soit du
fait que l’Eglise ne fait pas acception de personnes de rang, du culture, soit
enfin et surtout de fait que l’Eglise est repandue dans le monde entire d’une extrémité
à l’autre. Augustin ne veut connaître que ce dernier sens.” Cp. Also Bishop
Lightfoot, in his edition of St.
Ignatius, v. 2 (London London 4:32 ). Where this is not
the case, the life of the Church is limited and restricted. The ontological
blending of persons is, and must be, accomplished in oneness with the Body of
Christ; they cease to be exclusive and impenetrable. The cold separation into
“mine” and “thine” disappears.
The
growth of the Church is in the perfecting of its inner wholeness, its inner
catholicity, in the “perfection of wholeness”; “That they may be made perfect in one” (John 17:23 ).
The transfiguration of personality
The
catholicity of the Church has two sides. Objectively, the catholicity of the
Church denotes a unity of the Spirit. “In one Spirit were we all baptized into
one body” (1 Cor. 12:13 ).
And the Holy Spirit which is a Spirit of love and peace, not only unites
isolated individuals, but also becomes in every separate soul the source of
inner peace and wholeness. Subjectively, the catholicity of the Church means
that the Church is a certain unity of life, a brotherhood or communion, a union
of love, “a life in common.” The image of the Body is the commandment of love.
“St. Paul demands such love of us, a love which should bind us one to the
other, so that we no more should be
separated one from the other ... St. Paul demands that our union should be
as perfect as is that of the members of one body” (St.
John Chrysostom, In Eph. Hom. 11.1, Migne,
P.G. lxii, c. 79). The novelty of the Christian commandment of love
consists in the fact that we are to love our neighbour as ourselves. This is more than putting him on the same level with ourselves,
of identifying him with ourselves; it means seeing our own self in another, in
the beloved one, not in our own self .... Therein lies the limit of love; the
beloved is our “alter ego,” an “ego” which is dearer to us than ourself. In
love we are merged into one. “The quality of love is such that the loving and the
beloved are no more two but one man” (In 1 Cor.
Hom. 33, 3, Migne, P.G. lxi. c. 280). Even more: true Christian love
sees in every one of our brethren “Christ Himself.” Such love demands self‑surrender,
self‑mastery. Such love is possible only in a catholic expansion and
transfiguration of the soul. The commandment to be catholic is given to every
Christian. The measure of his spiritual manhood is the measure of his
catholicity. The Church is catholic in every one of its members, because a
catholic whole cannot be built up or composed otherwise than through the
catholicity of its members. No multitude, every member of which is isolated and
impenetrable, can become a brotherhood. Union
can become possible only through the mutual brotherly love of all the separate
brethren. This thought is expressed very vividly in the well known vision of
the Church as of a tower that is being built. (Compare the Shepherd of Hermas). This tower is being built out of separate
stones‑the faithful. These faithful are “living stones” (1 Peter 2:5). In the
process of building they fit one into the other, because they are smooth and
are well adapted to one another; they join so closely to one another, that
their edges are no longer visible, and the tower appears to be built of one
stone. This is a symbol of unity and wholeness. But notice, only smooth square
stones could be used for this building. There were other stones, bright stones,
but round ones, and they were of no use for the building; they did not fit one
into the other, were not suitable for the building and they had to be placed
near the walls. (Hermas, Vis. 3:2:6,8).
In ancient symbolism “roundness” was a sign of isolation, of self-sufficiency
and self‑satisfaction — teres atque
rotundus. And it is just this spirit of self‑satisfaction which hinders our
entering the Church. The stone must first be made smooth, so that it can fit
into the Church wall. We must “reject ourselves” to be able to enter the
catholicity of the Church. We must master our self‑love in a catholic spirit
before we can enter the Church. And in the fulness of the communion of the
Church the catholic transfiguration of
personality is accomplished.
But
the rejection and denial of our own self does not signify that personality must
be extinguished, that it must be dissolved within the multitude. Catholicity is
not corporality or collectivism. On the contrary, self‑denial widens the scope of our own personality; in self‑denial we
possess the multitude within our own self; we enclose the many within our own ego.
Therein lies the similarity with the Divine Oneness of the Holy Trinity. In
its catholicity the Church becomes the created similitude of Divine perfection.
The Fathers of the Church have spoken of this with great depth. In the East St.
Cyril of Alexandria ;
in the West St. Hilary. (For Patristic
quotations very well arranged and explained, see E. Mersch, S.J., Le Corps
Mystique du Christ, Etudes de Théologie Historique, t. 1-2, Louvain, 1933).
In contemporary Russian theology the Metropolitan Antony has said very adequately,
“The existence of the Church can be compared to nothing else upon earth, for on
earth there is no unity, but only separation. Only in heaven is there anything
like it. The Church is a perfect, a new, a peculiar, a unique existence upon
earth, a unicum, which cannot be
closely defined by any conception taken from the life of the world. The Church
is the likeness of the existence of the Holy Trinity, a likeness in which many
become one. Why is it that this existence, just as the existence of the Holy
Trinity, is new for the old man and unfathomable for him? Because personality
in its carnal consciousness is a self‑imprisoned existence, radically
contrasted with every other personality (Archbishop
Anthony Khapovitsky, The Moral Idea of the Dogma of the Church, Works, vol. 2, pp. 17-18. St. Petersburg
There
are two types of self‑consciousness and self‑assertion: separate individualism and catholicity. Catholicity is no denial of
personality and catholic consciousness is neither generic nor racial. It is not
a common consciousness, neither is it the joint consciousness of the many or
the Bewusstsein ueberhaupt of German
philosophers. Catholicity is achieved not by eliminating the living
personality, nor by passing over into the plane of an abstract Logos. Catholicity is a concrete oneness in thought
and feeling. Catholicity is the style or the order or the setting of personal
consciousness, which rises to the “level of catholicity.” It is the “telos” of
personal consciousness, which is realized in creative development, not in the
annihilation of personality.
In
catholic transfiguration personality receives strength and power to express the
life and consciousness of the whole. And this not as an impersonal medium, but
in creative and heroic action. We must not say: “Every one in the Church attains
the level of catholicity,” but “every one can, and must, and is called to attain
it.” Not always and not by every one is it attained. In the Church we call
those who have attained it Doctors and Fathers, because from them we hear not
only their personal profession, but also the testimony of the Church; they
speak to us from its catholic completeness, from the completeness of a life
full of grace.
The sacred and the historical
The
Church is the unity of charismatic life. The source of this unity is hidden in
the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and in the sacrament of Pentecost, that
unique descent of the Spirit of Truth into the world. Therefore the Church is
an apostolic Church. It was created and sealed by the Spirit in the
Twelve Apostles, and the Apostolic Succession is a living and mysterious thread
binding the whole historical fulness of Church life into one catholic whole.
Here again we see two sides. The objective side is the uninterrupted
sacramental succession, the continuity of the hierarchy. The Holy Ghost does
not descend upon earth again and again, but abides in the “visible” and
historical Church. And it is in the Church that He breathes and sends forth His
rays. Therein lies the fulness and catholicity of Pentecost.
The
subjective side is loyalty to the Apostolic tradition; a life spent according
to this tradition, as in a living realm of truth. This is the fundamental
demand or postulate of Orthodox thought, and here again this demand entails the
denial of individualistic separatism; it insists on catholicity. The catholic
nature of the Church is seen most vividly in the fact that the experience of
the Church belongs to all times. In the life and existence of the Church time
is mysteriously overcome and mastered, time, so to speak, stands still.
It stands still not only because of the power of historical memory, or of
imagination, which can “fly over the double barrier of time and space;” it
stands still, because of the power of grace, which gathers together in catholic
unity of life that which had become separated by walls built in the course of
time. Unity in the Spirit embraces in a mysterious, time‑conquering fashion,
the faithful of all generations. This time‑conquering unity is manifested and
revealed in the experience of the Church, especially in its Eucharistic
experience. The Church is the living image of eternity within time. The experience
and life of the Church are not interrupted or broken up by time. This, too, is
not only because of continuity in the super‑personal outpouring of grace, but
also because of the catholic inclusion of all that was, into the mysterious
fulness of the present. Therefore the history of the Church gives us not only
successive changes, but also identity. In this sense communion with the saints
is a communio sanctorum. The Church
knows that it is a unity of all times, and as such it builds up its life.
Therefore the Church thinks of the past not as of something that is no more,
but as of something that has been accomplished, as something existing in the
catholic fulness of the one Body of Christ. Tradition reflects this victory
over time. To learn from tradition, or, still better, in tradition, is
to learn from the fulness of this time‑conquering experience of the Church, an
experience which every member of the Church may learn to know and possess
according to the measure of his spiritual manhood; according to the measure of
his catholic development. It means that we can learn from history as we can
from revelation. Loyalty to tradition does not mean loyalty to bygone times and
to outward authority; it is a living connection with the fulness of Church
experience. Reference to tradition is no historical inquiry. Tradition is not
limited to Church archaeology. Tradition is no outward testimony which can be
accepted by an outsider. The Church alone is the living witness of tradition;
and only from inside, from within the Church, can tradition be felt and
accepted as a certainty. Tradition is the witness of the Spirit; the Spirit's
unceasing revelation and preaching of good tidings. For the living members of
the Church it is no outward historical authority, but the eternal, continual
voice of God — not only the voice of the past, but the voice of eternity. Faith
seeks its foundations not merely in the example and bequest of the past, but in
the grace of the Holy Ghost, witnessing always, now and ever, world without
end.
As
Khomyakov admirably puts it, “Neither individuals, nor a multitude of
individuals within the Church preserve tradition or write the Scriptures, but
the Spirit of God which lives in the whole body of the Church” (Russia and the
English Church, p. 198). “Concord
with the past” is only the consequence of loyalty to the whole; it is simply
the expression of the constancy of catholic experience in the midst of shifting
times. To accept and understand tradition we must live within the Church, we
must be conscious of the grace‑giving presence of the Lord in it; we must feel
the breath of the Holy Ghost in it. We may truly say that when we accept
tradition we accept, through faith, our Lord, who abides in the midst of the
faithful; for the Church is His Body, which cannot be separated from Him. That
is why loyalty to tradition means not only concord with the past, but,
in a certain sense, freedom from the past, as from some outward formal
criterion. Tradition is not only a protective, conservative principle; it is,
primarily, the principle of growth and regeneration. Tradition is not a
principle striving to restore the past, using the past as a criterion for the
present. Such a conception of tradition is rejected by history itself and by
the consciousness of the Church. Tradition is authority to teach, potestas magisterii, authority to hear witness to
the truth. The Church bears witness to the truth not by reminiscence or
from the words of others, but from its own living, unceasing experience, from
its catholic fulness ... Therein consists that “tradition of truth,” traditio veritatis, about which St.
Irenaeus spoke (Adv. Haeres, i. 10, 2).
For him it is connected with the “veritable unction of truth,” charisma veritatis certum” (Ibid., 4. 26,2), and the “teaching of
the Apostles” was for him not so much an unchangeable example to be repeated or
imitated, as an eternally living and inexhaustible source of life and
inspiration. Tradition is the constant abiding of the Spirit and not only the
memory of words. Tradition is a charismatic, not a historical,
principle.
It
is quite false to limit the “sources of teaching” to Scripture and tradition,
and to separate tradition from Scripture as only an oral testimony or teaching
of the Apostles. In the first place, both Scripture and tradition were given
only within the Church. Only in the Church have they been received in the
fulness of their sacred value and meaning. In them is contained the truth of
Divine Revelation, a truth which lives in the Church. This experience of the
Church has not been exhausted either in Scripture or in tradition; it is only
reflected in them. Therefore, only within the Church does Scripture live and
become vivified, only within the Church is it revealed as a whole and not
broken up into separate texts, commandments, and aphorisms. This means that
Scripture has been given in tradition, but not in the sense that it can
be understood only according to the dictates of tradition, or that it is the
written record of historical tradition or oral teaching. Scripture needs to be
explained. It is revealed in theology. This is possible only through the medium
of the living experience of the Church.
We
cannot assert that Scripture is self‑sufficient; and this not because it is
incomplete, or inexact, or has any defects, but because Scripture in its very
essence does not lay claim to self‑sufficiency. We can say that Scripture is a
God‑inspired scheme or image (eikón)
of truth, but not truth itself. Strange to say, we often limit the freedom of
the Church as a whole, for the sake of furthering the freedom of individual
Christians. In the name of individual freedom the Catholic, ecumenical freedom
of the Church is denied and limited. The liberty of the Church is shackled by
an abstract biblical standard for the sake of setting free individual
consciousness from the spiritual demands enforced by the experience of the
Church. This is a denial of catholicity, a destruction of catholic
consciousness; this is the sin of the Reformation. Dean Inge neatly says of the
Reformers: “their creed has been described as a return to the Gospel in the
spirit of the Koran” (Very Rev. W. R. Igne, The Platonic Tradition in English Religious
Thought, 1926, p. 27). If we declare Scripture to be self‑sufficient,
we only expose it to subjective, arbitrary interpretation, thus cutting it away
from its sacred source. Scripture is given to us in tradition. It is the vital,
crystallizing centre. The Church, as the Body of Christ, stands mystically
first and is fuller than Scripture. This does not limit Scripture, or cast
shadows on it. But truth is revealed to us not only historically. Christ
appeared and still appears before us not only in the Scriptures; He unchangeably
and unceasingly reveals Himself in the Church, in His own Body. In the times of
the early Christians the Gospels were not yet written and could not be the sole
source of knowledge. The Church acted according to the spirit of the Gospel,
and, what is more, the Gospel came to life in the Church, in the Holy
Eucharist. In the Christ of the Eucharist Christians learned to know the Christ
of the Gospels, and so His image became vivid to them.
This
does not mean that we oppose Scripture to experience. On the contrary, it means
that we unite them in the same manner in which they were united from the
beginning. We must not think that all we have said denies history. On the
contrary, history is recognized in all its sacred realism. As contrasted with
outward historical testimony, we put forward no subjective religious
experience, no solitary mystical consciousness, not the experience of separate
believers, but the integral, living experience of the Catholic Church, catholic
experience, and Church life. And this experience includes also historical
memory; it is full of history. But this memory is not only a reminiscence and a
remembrance of some bygone events. Rather it is a vision of what is, and of
what has been, accomplished, a vision of the mystical conquest of time, of the
catholicity of the whole of time. The Church knows naught of forgetfulness. The
grace‑giving experience of the Church becomes integral in its catholic fulness.
This
experience has not been exhausted either in Scripture, or in oral tradition, or
in definitions. It cannot, it must not
be, exhausted. On the contrary, all words and images must be regenerated in
its experience, not in the psychologisms of subjective feeling, but in
experience of spiritual life. This experience is the source of the teaching of
the Church. However, not everything within the Church dates from Apostolic
times. This does not mean that something has been revealed which was “unknown”
to the Apostles; nor does it mean that what is of later date is less important
and convincing. Everything was given and revealed fully from the beginning. On
the day of Pentecost Revelation was completed, and will admit of no further
completion till the Day of Judgment and its last fulfilment. Revelation has not
been widened, and even knowledge has not increased. The Church knows Christ now
no more than it knew Him at the time of the Apostles. But it testifies of greater things. In its definitions it always
unchangeably describes the same thing, but in the unchanged image ever new
features become visible. But it knows the truth not less and not otherwise than
it knew it in time of old. The identity of experience is loyalty to tradition.
Loyalty to tradition did not prevent the Fathers of the Church from “creating
new names” (as St. Gregory Nazianzen says) when it was necessary for the
protection of the unchangeable faith. All that was said later on, was said from
catholic completeness and is of equal value and force with that which was
pronounced in the beginning. And even now the experience of the Church has not
been exhausted, but protected and fixed in dogma. But there is much of which
the Church testifies not in a dogmatic, but in a liturgical, manner, in the
symbolism of the sacramental ritual, in the imagery of prayers, and in the
established yearly round of commemorations and festivals. Liturgical testimony
is as valid as dogmatic testimony. The concreteness of symbols is sometimes
even more vivid, clear, and expressive than any logical conceptions can be, as
witness the image of the Lamb taking upon Himself the sins of the world.
Mistaken
and untrue is that theological minimalism, which wants to choose and set apart
the “most important, most certain, and most binding” of all the experiences and
teachings of the Church. This is a false path, and a false statement of the
question. Of course, not everything in the historical institutions of the
Church is equally important and venerable; not everything in the empirical
actions of the Church has even been sanctioned. There is much that is only
historical. However, we have no outward criterion to discriminate between the
two. The methods of outward historical criticism are inadequate and
insufficient. Only from within the Church can we discern the sacred from the historical. From within we see what is catholic and belongs to all
time, and what is only “theological opinion,” or even a simple casual
historical accident. Most important in the life of the Church is its fulness,
its catholic integrity. There is more freedom in this fulness than in the
formal definitions of an enforced minimum, in which we lose what is most
important — directness, integrity, catholicity.
One
of the Russian Church
The inadequacy of the Vincentian
canon.
The
well known formula of Vincent of Lerins is very inexact, when he describes the
catholic nature of Church life in the words, Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus creditum est. [What has
been believed everywhere, always, and by all]. First of all, it is not clear
whether this is an empirical criterion or not. If this be so, then the
“Vincentian Canon” proves to be inapplicable and quite false. For about what omnes is he speaking? Is it a demand for
a general, universal questioning of all the faithful, and even of those who
only deem themselves such? At any rate, all the weak and poor of faith, all
those who doubt and waver, all those who rebel, ought to be excluded. But the
Vincentian Canon gives us no criterion, whereby to distinguish and select. Many
disputes arise about faith, still more about dogma. How, then, are we to
understand omnes? Should we not prove
ourselves too hasty, if we settled all doubtful points by leaving the decision
to “liberty” — in dubiis libertas —
according to the well known formula wrongly ascribed to St. Augustine . There is actually no need for
universal questioning. Very often the measure of truth is the witness of the
minority. It may happen that the Catholic Church will find itself but “a little
flock.” Perhaps there are more of heterodox than of orthodox mind. It may
happen that the heretics spread everywhere, ubique,
and that the Church is relegated to the background of history, that it will
retire into the desert. In history this was more than once the case, and quite
possibly it may more than once again be so. Strictly speaking, the Vincentian
Canon is something of a tautology. The word onmes
is to be understood as referring to those that are orthodox. In that case the criterion loses its significance. Idem
is defined per idem. And of what
eternity and of what omnipresence does this rule speak? To what do semper and ubique relate? Is it the experience of faith or the definitions of
faith that they refer to? In the latter case the canon becomes a dangerous
minimising formula. For not one of the dogmatic definitions strictly satisfies
the demand of semper and ubique.
Will
it then be necessary to limit ourselves to the dead letter of Apostolic
writings? It appears that the Vincentian Canon is a postulate of historical
simplification, of a harmful primitivism. This means that we are not to seek
for outward, formal criteria of catholicity; we are not to dissect catholicity
in empirical universality. Charismatic tradition is truly universal; in its
fulness it embraces every kind of semper
and ubique and unites all. But empirically it may not be accepted
by all. At any rate we are not to prove the truth of Christianity by means of
“universal consent,” per consensum omnium.
In general, no consensus can prove
truth. This would be a case of acute psychologism, and in theology there is even
less place for it than in philosophy. On the contrary, truth is the measure by
which we can evaluate the worth of “general opinion.” Catholic experience can
be expressed even by the few, even by single confessors of faith; and this is
quite sufficient. Strictly speaking, to be able to recognize and express
catholic truth we need no ecumenical, universal assembly and vote; we even need
no “Ecumenical Council.” The sacred dignity of the Council lies not in the
number of members representing their Churches. A large “general” council may
prove itself to be a “council of robbers” (latrocinium),
or even of apostates. And the ecclesia
sparsa often convicts it of its nullity by silent opposition. Numerus episcoporum does not solve the
question. The historical and practical methods of recognizing sacred and
catholic tradition can be many; that of assembling Ecumenical Councils is but
one of them, and not the only one. This does not mean that it is unnecessary to
convoke councils and conferences. But it may so happen that during the council
the truth will be expressed by the minority. And what is still more important,
the truth may be revealed even without a council. The opinions of the Fathers
and of the ecumenical Doctors of the Church frequently have greater spiritual
value and finality than the definitions of certain councils. And these opinions
do not need to be verified and accepted by “universal consent.” On the
contrary, it is they themselves who are the criterion and they who can prove.
It is of this that the Church testifies in silent receptio. Decisive value resides in inner catholicity, not in
empirical universality. The opinions of the Fathers are accepted, not as a
formal subjection to outward authority, but because of the inner evidence of
their catholic truth. The whole body of the Church has the right of verifying,
or, to be more exact, the right, and not only the right but the duty, of
certifying. It was in this sense that in the well known Encyclical Letter of
1848 the Eastern Patriarchs wrote that “the people itself” (λαος, laós), i.e, the Body of the Church, “was the guardian of piety” (υπερασπιοτης της Θρησκειας). And even before this
the Metropolitan Philaret said the same thing in his Catechism. In answer to
the question. “Does a true treasury of sacred tradition exist?” he says “All
the faithful, united through the sacred tradition of faith, all together and
all successively, are built up by God into one Church, which is the true
treasury of sacred tradition, or, to quote the words of St. Paul, 'The Church of the living God, the pillar
and ground of the truth'” (1 Tim. 3:15).
The
conviction of the Orthodox Church that the “guardian” of tradition and piety is the whole people, i.e. the Body of
Christ, in no wise lessens or limits the power of teaching given to the hierarchy.
It only means that the power of teaching given to the hierarchy is one of the
functions of the catholic completeness of the Church; it is the power of
testifying, of expressing and speaking the faith and the experience of the
Church, which have been preserved in the whole body. The teaching of the
hierarchy is, as it were, the mouthpiece of the Church. De omnium fidelium ore pendeamus, quia in omnem fidelem Spiritus Dei
Spirat. [We depend upon the word of all the faithful, because the Spirit of
God breathes in each of the faithful, St.
Paulin. Nolan, epist. 23, 25, M.L. 61. col. 281]. Only to the hierarchy
has it been given to teach “with authority.” The hierarchs have received this
power to teach, not from the church-people but from the High Priest, Jesus
Christ, in the Sacrament of Orders. But this teaching finds its limits in the expression
of the whole Church. The Church is called to witness to this experience, which
is an inexhaustible experience, a spiritual vision. A bishop of the Church, episcopus in ecclesia, must be a
teacher. Only the bishop has received full power and authority to speak in the
name of his flock. The latter receives the right of speaking through the
bishop. But to do so the bishop must embrace his Church within himself; he must
make manifest its experience and its faith. He must speak not from himself, but
in the name of the Church, ex consensu
ecclesiae. This is just the contrary of the Vatican
formula: ex sese, non autem ex consensu
ecclesiae. [From himself, but not from the consensus of the Church].
It
is not from his flock that the bishop receives full power to teach, but from
Christ through the Apostolic Succession. But full power has been given to him
to bear witness to the catholic experience of the body of the Church. He is
limited by this experience, and therefore in questions of faith the people must
judge concerning his teaching. The duty of obedience ceases when the bishop
deviates from the catholic norm, and the people have the right to accuse and
even to depose him (For some more details cp. my
articles: “The Work of the Holy Spirit in Revelation,” The Christian East, 5.13, No. 2, 1932, and “The Sacrament of
Pentecost,” The Journal of the Fellowship
of St. Alban and St. Sergius, No
23, March 1934).
Freedom and authority.
In
the catholicity of the Church the painful duality and tension between freedom
and authority is solved. In the Church there is not and cannot be any outward
authority. Authority cannot be a source of spiritual life. So also Christian
authority appeals to freedom; this authority must convince, not constrain.
Official subjection would in no wise further true unity of mind and of heart.
But this does not mean that everyone has received unlimited freedom of personal
opinion. It is precisely in the Church that “personal opinions” should not and
cannot exist. A double problem is facing every member of the Church. First of
all, he must master his subjectivity, set himself free from psychological
limitations, raise the standard of his consciousness to its full catholic
measure. Secondly, he must live in spiritual sympathy with, and understand, the
historical completeness of the Church's experience. Christ reveals Himself not
to separate individuals, nor is it only their personal fate which He directs.
Christ
came not to the scattered sheep, but to the whole human race, and His work is
being fulfilled in the fulness of history, that is, in the Church.
In
a certain sense the whole of history is sacred history. Yet, at the same time,
the history of the Church is tragic. Catholicity has been given to the Church;
its achievement is the Church's task. Truth is conceived in labour and
striving. It is not easy to overcome subjectivity and particularism. The
fundamental condition of Christian heroism is humility before God, acceptance
of His Revelation. And God has revealed Himself in the Church. This is the
final Revelation, which passeth not away. Christ reveals Himself to us not in
our isolation, but in our mutual catholicity, in our union. He reveals Himself
as the New Adam, as the Head of the Church, the Head of the Body. Therefore,
humbly and trustfully we must enter the life of the Church and try to find ourselves
in it. We must believe that it is just in the Church that the fulness of Christ
is accomplished. Every one of us has to face his own difficulties and doubts.
But we believe and hope that in united, catholic, heroic effort and exploits,
these difficulties will be solved. Every work of fellowship and of concord is a
path towards the realization of the catholic fulness of the Church. And this is
pleasing in the sight of the Lord: “Where
two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them”
(Mt. 18:20 ).
The Church:
her nature and task.
“The Church: Her Nature and Task”
appeared in volume 1 of the Universal
Church in God’s Design (S.C.M. Press, 1948).
The catholic mind.
It
is impossible to start with a formal definition of the Church. For, strictly
speaking, there is none which could claim any doctrinal authority. None can be
found in the Fathers. No definition has been given by the Ecumenical Councils.
In the doctrinal summaries, drafted on various occasions in the Eastern
Orthodox Church in the seventeenth century and taken often (but wrongly) for
the “symbolic books,” again no definition of the Church was given, except a
reference to the relevant clause of the Creed, followed by some comments. This
lack of formal definitions does not mean, however, a confusion of ideas or any
obscurity of view. The Fathers did not care so much how to define the Church
precisely because the glorious reality
of the Church was open to their spiritual vision. One does not define what is
self-evident. This accounts for the absence of a special chapter on the Church
in all early presentations of Christian doctrine: in Origen, in St. Gregory of
Nyssa, even in St. John of Damascus. Many modern scholars, both Orthodox and
Roman, suggest that the Church itself has not yet defined her essence and
nature. “Die Kirche selbst hat sich bis heute noch nicht definiert,” says
Robert Grosche (Robert Grosche, Pilgernde Kirche Freiburg im Breisgau,
1938, p. 27). Some theologians go even further and claim that no
definition of the Church is possible (Sergius
Bulgakov, The Orthodox Church, 1935,
p. 12; Stefan Zankow, Das Orthodoxe Christentum des Ostens, Berlin 1928,
p. 65; English translation by Dr. Lowrie, 1929, p. 6gf). In any case,
the theology of the Church is still im
Werden, in the process of formation (See M.
D. Koster, Ecclesiologie im Werden,
Paderborn 1940).
In
our time, it seems, one has to get beyond the modern theological disputes, to
regain a wider historical perspective, to recover the true “catholic mind,”
which would embrace the whole of the historical experience of the Church in its
pilgrimage through the ages. One has to return from the school‑room to the
worshipping Church and perhaps to change the school‑dialect of theology for the
pictorial and metaphorical language of Scripture. The very nature of the Church
can be rather depicted and described than properly defined. And surely this can
be done only from within the Church. Probably even this description will be
convincing only for those of the Church. The Mystery is apprehended only by
faith.
The new reality.
The
Greek name ekklesia adopted by the
primitive Christians to denote the New Reality, in which they were aware they
shared, presumed and suggested a very definite conception of what the Church
really was. Adopted under an obvious influence of the Septuagint use, this word
stressed first of all the organic continuity of the two Covenants. The
Christian existence was conceived in the sacred perspective of the Messianic
preparation and fulfilment (Heb. 1:1‑2). A very definite theology of history
was thereby implied. The Church was the true Israel , the new Chosen People of
God, “A chosen generation, a holy nation,
a peculiar people” (1 Pet. 2:9). Or rather, it was the faithful Remnant,
selected out of the unresponsive People of old (Luke
12:32 “little flock” seems
to mean precisely the “remnant,” reconstituted and redeemed, and
reconsecrated). And all nations of the earth, Greeks and Barbarians,
were to be coopted and grafted into this new People of God by the call of God
(this was the main theme of St. Paul
in Romans and Galatians, cf. Ephesians ch. 2).
Already
in the Old Testament the word ekklisía
(a rendering in Greek of the Hebrew Qahal)
did imply a special emphasis on the ultimate unity of the Chosen People,
conceived as a sacred whole, and this unity was rooted more in the mystery of
the divine election than in any “natural” features. This emphasis could only be
confirmed by the supplementary influence of the Hellenistic use of the word ekklesía meaning usually an assembly of
the sovereign people in a city, a general congregation of all regular citizens.
Applied to the new Christian existence, the word kept its traditional
connotation. The Church was both the People and the City. A special stress has
been put on the organic unity of Christians.
Christianity
from the very beginning existed as a corporate reality, as a community. To be
Christian meant just to belong to the community. Nobody could be Christian by
himself, as an isolated individual, but only together with “the brethren,” in a
“togetherness” with them. Unus
Christianus — nullus Christianus [One Christian — no Christian]. Personal
conviction or even a rule of life still do not make one a Christian. Christian
existence presumes and implies an incorporation, a membership in the community.
This must be qualified at once: in the Apostolic
community, i.e. in communion with the Twelve and their message. The Christian
“community” was gathered and constituted by Jesus Himself “in the days of His
flesh,” and it was given by Him at least a provisional constitution by the
election and the appointment of the Twelve, to whom He gave the name (or rather
the title) of His “messengers” or “ambassadors” (See
Luke 6:13: “whom also He named
apostles”). For a “sending forth” of the Twelve was not only a
mission, but precisely a commission, for which they were invested with a
“power” (Mark 3:15 ; Matt.
10:1; Luke 9:1). In any case as the appointed “witnesses” of the Lord (Luke
24:48; Acts 1:8) the Twelve alone were entitled to secure the continuity both
of the Christian message and of the community life. Therefore communion with
the Apostles was a basic note of the primitive “Church
of God ” in Jerusalem (Acts 2:42: koinonía).
Christianity
means a “common life,” a life in common. Christians have to regard themselves
as “brethren” (in fact this was one of their first names), as members of one
corporation, closely linked together. And therefore charity had to be the first
mark and the first proof as well as the token of this fellowship. We are
entitled to say: Christianity is a community, a corporation, a fellowship, a
brotherhood, a “society,” coetus
fideliuim. And surely, as a first approximation, such a description could
be of help. But obviously it requires a further qualification, and something crucial
is missing here. One has to ask: in what exactly this unity and togetherness of
the many is based and rooted? what is the power that brings many together and
joins them one with another? Is this merely a social instinct, some power of
social cohesion, an impetus of mutual affection, or any other natural attraction?
Is this unity based simply on unanimity, on identity of views or convictions?
Briefly, is the Christian Community, the Church, merely a human society, a
society of men? Surely, the clear evidence of the New Testament takes us far
beyond this purely human level. Christians are united not only among
themselves, but first of all they are one
— in Christ, and only this
communion with Christ makes the
communion of men first possible — in
Him. The centre of unity is the Lord
and the power that effects and enacts the unity is the Spirit. Christians are constituted into this unity by divine
design; by the Will and Power of God. Their unity comes from above. They are
one only in Christ, as those who had been born anew in Him, “Rooted and built up in Him” (Col. 2:7),
who by One Spirit have been “Baptized
into One Body” (1 Cor. 12:13 ).
The Church of God
Moreover,
Christ Himself belongs to this community, as its Head, not only as its Lord or
Master. Christ is not above or outside of the Church. The Church is in Him. The Church is not merely a
community of those who believe in Christ and walk in His steps or in His commandments.
She is a community of those who abide and dwell in Him, and in whom He Himself
is abiding and dwelling by the Spirit. Christians are set apart, “born anew”
and re‑created, they are given not only a new pattern of life, but rather a new
principle: the new Life in the Lord by the Spirit. They are a “peculiar
People,” “the People of God's own possession.” The point is that the Christian
Community, the ekklesía, is a sacramental community: communio in sacris,
a “fellowship in holy things,” i.e. in the Holy Spirit, or even communio sanctorum (sanctorum being taken as neuter rather than masculine — perhaps
that was the original meaning of the phrase). The unity of the Church is
effected through the sacraments: Baptism and the Eucharist are the two “social
sacraments” of the Church, and in them the true meaning of Christian
“togetherness” is continually revealed and sealed. Or even more emphatically,
the sacraments constitute the Church. Only in the sacraments does the Christian
Community pass beyond the purely human measure and become the Church. Therefore
“the right administration of the sacraments” belongs to the essence of the
Church (to her esse). Sacraments must
be “worthily” received indeed, therefore they cannot be separated or divorced
from the inner effort and spiritual attitude of believers. Baptism is to be
preceded by repentance and faith. A personal relation between an aspirant and
his Lord must be first established by the hearing and the receiving of the
Word, of the message of salvation. And again an oath of allegiance to God and
His Christ is a pre‑requisite and indispensable condition of the administration
of the sacrament (the first meaning of the word sacramentum was precisely “the (military) oath.”) A catechumen is
already “enrolled” among the brethren on the basis of his faith. Again, the
baptismal gift is appropriated, received and kept, by faith and faithfulness,
by the steadfast standing in the faith and the promises. And yet sacraments are
not merely signs of a professed faith, but rather effective signs of the saving
Grace — not only symbols of human aspiration and loyalty, but the outward
symbols of the divine action. In them our human existence is linked to, or
rather raised up to, the Divine Life, by the Spirit, the giver of life.
The
Church as a whole is a sacred (or
consecrated) community, distinguished thereby from “the (profane) world.” She
is the Holy Church St. Paul obviously uses the terms “Church”
and “saints” as co‑extensive and synonymous. It is remarkable that in the New
Testament the name “saint” is almost exclusively used in the plural,
saintliness being social in its intrinsic meaning. For the name refers not to
any human achievement, but to a gift, to sanctification or consecration. Holiness
comes from the Holy One, i.e. only from God. To be holy for a man means to
share the Divine Life. Holiness is available to individuals only in the
community, or rather in the “fellowship of the Holy Spirit.” The “communion of
saints” is a pleonasm. One can be a “saint” only in the communion.
Strictly
speaking, the Messianic Community, gathered by Jesus the Christ, was not yet
the Church, before His Passion and Resurrection, before “the promise of the
Father” was sent upon it and it was “endued with the power from on high,”
“baptized with the Holy Spirit” (cf. Luke 24:49 and Acts 1:4-5), in the mystery
of Pentecost. Before the victory of the Cross disclosed in the glorious
Resurrection, it was still sub umbraculo
legis [Under the Shadow of the law]. It was still the eve of the
fulfilment. And Pentecost was there to witness to and to seal the victory of
Christ. “The power from on high” has entered into history. The “new aeon” has
been truly disclosed and started. And the sacramental life of the Church is the
continuation of Pentecost.
The
descent of the Spirit was a supreme revelation. Once and for ever, in the
“dreadful and inscrutable mystery” of Pentecost, the Spirit‑Comforter enters
the world in which He was not yet present in such manner as now He begins to
dwell and to abide. An abundant spring of living water is disclosed on that
day, here on earth, in the world which had been already redeemed and reconciled
with God by the Crucified and Risen Lord. The Kingdom comes, for the Holy
Spirit is the Kingdom (Cf.
St. Gregory of Nyssa, De
oratione Dominica 15:26 ; 16:7 and 14). Indeed in the
Holy Spirit the Glorified Lord Himself comes back or returns to His flock to
abide with them always (John 14:18 and 28)... Pentecost was the mystical
consecration, the baptism of the whole Church (Acts 1:5). This fiery baptism
was administered by the Lord: for He baptizes “With the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Matt. 3:11 and Luke 3:16). He has sent the Spirit from
the Father, as a pledge in our hearts. The Holy Spirit is the spirit of
adoption, in Christ Jesus, “The power of
Christ” (2 Cor. 12:9). By the spirit we recognize and we acknowledge that
Jesus is the Lord (1 Cor. 12:3). The work of the Spirit in believers is
precisely their incorporation into Christ, their baptism into one body (1 Cor. 12:13 ), even the body of Christ. As St. Athanasius puts it: “being given drink of the Spirit,
we drink Christ.” For the Rock was Christ (S.
Athan. Alex. Epist. I ad Seraponiem, MG
26. 576).
By
the Spirit Christians are united with Christ, are united in Him, are
constituted into His Body. One body,
that of Christ: this excellent analogy used by St. Paul
in various contexts, when depicting the mystery of Christian existence, is at
the same time the best witness to the intimate experience of the Apostolic Church St. Paul the main emphasis was always on the
intimate union of the faithful with the Lord, on their sharing in His fulness.
As St. John Chrysostom has pointed out, commenting on (Col. 3:4), in all his
writings St. Paul was endeavouring to prove that the believers “are in
communion with Him in all things” and “Precisely to show this union does he
speak of the Head and the body” (St. John
Chrysostom, in Coloss. Hom. 7, MG,
62, 375). It is highly probable that the term was suggested by the
Eucharistic experience (cf. 1 Cor. 10:17 ),
and was deliberately used to suggest its sacramental connotation. The Church of Christ St. Paul .
Still
more, the Church is the body of Christ
and His “fulness.” Body and fulness (to sóma and to pléroma)
— these two terms are correlative and closely linked together in St. Paul's
mind, one explaining the other: “which is His body, the fulness of Him Who all
in all is being fulfilled” (Eph. 1:23). The Church is the Body of Christ
because it is His complement. St.
John Chrysostom commends the Pauline idea just in this sense. “The Church is
the complement of Christ in the same manner in which the head completes the
body and the body is completed by the head.” Christ is not alone. “He has
prepared the whole race in common to follow Him, to cling to Him, to accompany
His train.” Chrysostom insists, “Observe how he (i.e. St. Paul ) introduces Him as having need of
all the members. This means that only then will the Head be filled up, when the
Body is rendered perfect, when we are all together, co‑united and knit
together” (St. John Chrysostom, in Ephes. Hom. 3, MG, 52, 29). In
other words, the Church is the extension and the “fulness” of the Holy
Incarnation, or rather of the Incarnate life of the Son, “with all that for our
sakes was brought to pass, the Cross and tomb, the Resurrection the third day,
the Ascension into Heaven, the sitting on the right hand” (Liturgy of St. John
Chrysostom, Prayer of Consecration).
The
Incarnation is being completed in the Church. And, in a certain sense, the
Church is Christ Himself, in His all‑embracing plenitude (cf. 1 Cor. 12:12 ). This identification has been
suggested and vindicated by St.
Augustine : “Non
solum nor Christianos factos esse, sed Christum” [Not only to make us
Christians, but Christ]. For if He is the Head, we are the members: the whole
man is He and we — totus homo, ille et
nos — Christus et Ecclesia.” And again: “For Christ is not simply in the
head and not in the body (only), but Christ is entire in the head and body” — “non enim Christus in capite et non in
corpore, sed Christus totus in capite et in corpore” (St. Augustine in Evangelium
Joannis tract, 21, 8, MG. 35, 1568); cf. St. John Chrysostom in I Cor. Hom. 30, MG, 61, 279-283).
This term totus Christus (Augustine in Evangelium
Joannis tr. ML, 38, 1622) occurs in St.
Augustine again and again, this is his basic and favourite idea,
suggested obviously by St. Paul .
“When I speak of Christians in the plural, I understand one in the One Christ.
Ye are therefore many, and ye are yet one: we are many and we are one” — “cum plures Christianos appello, in uno
Christo unum intelligo” (St. Augustine St. Augustine St. Augustine
The
main contention of all these utterances is obvious. Christians are incorporated
into Christ and Christ abides in them — this intimate union constitutes the
mystery of the Church. The Church is, as it were, the place and the mode of the
redeeming presence of the Risen Lord in the redeemed world. “The Body of Christ
is Christ Himself. The Church is Christ, as after His Resurrection He is
present with us and encounters us here on earth” (A.
Nygren, Corpus Christi, in En Bok om Kyrkan, av Svenska teologer, Lund, 1943, p. 20).
And in this sense one can say: Christ is the Church. “Ipse enim est Ecclesia, per sacramentum
corporis sui in se ... eam continens” (St. Hilary in Ps.
125, 6, ML, 9, 688). [For He himself is the Church, containing it in
himself through the sacrament of his body.] Or in the words of Karl Adam:
“Christ, the Lord, is the proper Ego of the Church” (Karl Adam, Das Wesen
Katholizisimus, 4 Ausgabe, 1927, p. 24).
The
Church is the unity of charismatic life. The source of this unity is hidden in
the sacrament of the Lord's Supper and in the mystery of Pentecost. And
Pentecost is continued and made permanent in the Church by means of the
Apostolic Succession. It is not merely, as it were, the canonic skeleton of the
Church. Ministry (or “hierarchy”) itself is primarily a charismatic principle, a “ministry of the sacraments,” or “a divine
oeconomia.” Ministry is not only a canonical
commission, it belongs not only to the institutional
fabric of the Church — it is rather an indispensable constitutional or structural feature, just in so far as
the Church is a body, an organism. Ministers are not, as it were, “commissioned
officers” of the community, not only leaders or delegates of the “multitudes,”
of the “people” or “congregation” — they are acting not only in persona ecclesiae. They are acting
primarily in persona Christi.
They are “representatives” of Christ Himself, not of believers, and in them and
through them, the Head of the Body, the only High Priest of the New Covenant,
is performing, continuing and accomplishing His eternal pastoral and priestly
office. He is Himself the only true Minister of the Church. All others are but stewards of His mysteries.
They are standing for Him, before the community — and just because
the Body is one only in its Head, is brought together and into unity by Him and
in Him, the Ministry in the Church is primarily the Ministry of unity. In the
Ministry the organic unity of the Body is not only represented or exhibited,
but rather rooted, without any prejudice to the “equality” of the believers,
just as the “equality” of the cells of an organism is not destroyed by their
structural differentiation: all cells are equal as such, and yet differentiated
by their functions, and again this differentiation serves the unity, enables
this organic unity to become more comprehensive and more intimate. The unity of
every local congregation springs from the unity in the Eucharistic meal. And it
is as the celebrant of the Eucharist that the priest is the minister and the
builder of Church unity. But there is another and higher office: to secure the
universal and catholic unity of the whole Church in space and time. This is the
episcopal office and function. On the one hand, the Bishop has an authority to
ordain, and again this is not only a jurisdictional privilege, but precisely a
power of sacramental action beyond that possessed by the priest. Thus the
Bishop as “ordainer” is the builder of Church unity on a wider scale. The Last
Supper and Pentecost are inseparably linked to one another. The Spirit
Comforter descends when the Son has been glorified in His death and
resurrection. But still they are two sacraments (or mysteries) which cannot be
merged into one another. In the same way the priesthood and the episcopate differ
from one another. In the episcopacy Pentecost becomes universal and continuous,
in the undivided episcopate of the Church (episcopatus
unus of St. Cyprian) the unity in space is secured. On the other hand,
through its bishop, or rather in its bishop, every particular or local Church
is included in the catholic fulness of the Church, is linked with the past and
with all ages. In its bishop every single Church outgrows and transcends its
own limits and is organically united with the others. The Apostolic Succession
is not so much the canonical as the mystical foundation of Church unity. It is
something other than a safeguard of historical continuity or of adminnistrative
cohesion. It is an ultimate means to keep the mystical identity of the Body
through the ages. But, of course, Ministry is never detached from the Body. It
is in the Body, belongs to its structure. And ministerial gifts are given
inside the Church (cf. 1 Cor. 12).
The
Pauline conception of the Body of Christ was taken up and variously commented
on by the Fathers, both in the East and in the West, and then was rather
forgotten (See E. Mersch, S.J., Le Corps Mystique du Christ, Etudes de
Theologie Historique, 2 vols., 2nd edition, Louvain, 1936). It is high time now to return to this
experience of the early Church which may provide us with a solid ground for a
modern theological synthesis. Some other similes and metaphors were used by St. Paul and elsewhere in
the New Testament, but much to the same purpose and effect: to stress the intimate and organic unity
between Christ and those who are His. But, among all these various images,
that of the Body is the most inclusive and impressive, is the most emphatic
expression of the basic vision (The image of the
Bride and her mystical marriage with Christ, Eph. 5:23f, express the intimate union.
Even the image of the House built of many stones, the corner stone being
Christ, Eph. 2:20f; cf. 1 Pet. 2:6, tends to the same purpose: many are
becoming one, and the tower appears as it were built of one stone; cf. Hermans,
Shepherd, Vis. 3, 2, 6, 8. And again
“the People of God” is to be regarded as an organic whole. There is no reason
whatever to be troubled by the variety of vocabularies used. The main idea and
contention is obviously the same in all cases). Of course, no analogy is
to be pressed too far or over‑emphasized. The idea of an organism, when used of
the Church, has its own limitations. On the one hand, the Church is composed of
human personalities, which never can be regarded merely as elements or cells of
the whole, because each is in direct and immediate union with Christ and His
Father‑the personal is not to be sacrificed or dissolved in the corporate,
Christian “togetherness” must not degenerate into impersonalism. The idea of the
organism must be supplemented by the idea of a symphony of personalities, in
which the mystery of the Holy Trinity is reflected (cf. John 17:21 and 23), and this is the core
of the conception of “catholicity” (sobornost, Cf. George Florovsky, “The Catholicity of the
Church,” above). This is the chief reason why we should prefer a
christological orientation in the theology of the Church rather than a
pneumatological (Such as in Khomiakov’s or in
Moehler’s Die Einheit in der Kirche).
For, on the other hand, the Church, as a whole, has her personal centre only in Christ, she is not an incarnation of
the Holy Spirit, nor is she merely a Spirit‑being community, but precisely the
Body of Christ, the Incarnate Lord. This saves us from impersonalism without
committing us to any humanistic personification. Christ the Lord is the only
Head and the only Master of the Church. “In Him the whole structure is closely
fitted together and grows into a temple holy in the Lord; in Him you too are
being built together into a dwelling‑place for God in the Spirit (Eph. 2:21‑22,
Bp. Challoner's version).
The
Christology of the Church does not lead us into the misty clouds of vain
speculations or dreamy mysticism. On the contrary, it secures the only solid
and positive ground for proper theological research. The doctrine of the Church
finds thereby its proper and organic place in the general scheme of the Divine
Oeconomía of salvation. For we have indeed still to search for a comprehensive
vision of the mystery of our salvation, of the salvation of the world.
One
last distinction is to be made. The Church is still in statu viae and yet it is already in statu patriae. It has, as it were, a double life, both in heaven and on earth (Cf. St. Augustine in Evang. Joannis tract, 124, 5, ML, 35, 19f, 7). The Church is
a visible historical society, and the same is the Body of Christ. It is both
the Church of the redeemed, and the Church of the miserable sinners — both at
once. On the historical level no final
goal has yet been attained. But the ultimate
reality has been disclosed and revealed. This ultimate reality is still at
hand, is truly available, in spite of the historical imperfection, though but
in provisional forms. For the Church is a sacramental society. Sacramental means no less than “eschatological.” To eschaton does not mean primarily final, in the temporal series of events;
it means rather ultimate (decisive);
and the ultimate is being realized within the stress of historical happenings
and events. What is “not of this world” is here “in this world,” not abolishing
this world, but giving to it a new meaning and a new value, “transvaluating”
the world, as it were. Surely this is still only an anticipation, a “token” of
the final consummation. Yet the Spirit abides in the Church. This constitutes
the mystery of the Church: a visible “society” of frail men is an organism of
the Divine Grace (See Khomiakov’s essay On the Church; English translation by W.
J. Birkbeck, Russia and the English
Church, first published 1895, ch. 23, pp. 193-222).
The new creation.
The
primary task of the historical Church is the proclamation of another world “to
come.” The Church bears witness to the New Life, disclosed and revealed in
Christ Jesus, the Lord and Saviour. This it does both by word and deed. The
true proclamation of the Gospel would be precisely the practice of this New
Life: to show faith by deeds (cf. Matt. 5:16 ).
The
Church is more than a company of preachers, or a teaching society, or a
missionary board. It has not only to invite people, but also to introduce them
into this New Life, to which it bears witness. It is a missionary body indeed,
and its mission field is the whole world. But the aim of its missionary
activity is not merely to convey to people certain convictions or ideas, not even
to impose on then a definite discipline or a rule of life, but first of all to
introduce them into the New Reality, to convert
them, to bring them through their faith and repentance to Christ Himself, that
they should be born anew in Him and into Him by water and the Spirit. Thus the
ministry of the Word is completed in the ministry of the Sacraments.
“Conversion”
is a fresh start, but it is only a start, to be followed by a long process of
growth. The Church has to organize the new life of the converted. The Church
has, as it were, to exhibit the new pattern of existence, the new mode of life,
that of the “world to come.” The Church is here, in this world, for its
salvation. But just for this reason it has to oppose and to renounce “this” world. God claims the whole man,
and the Church bears witness to this “totalitarian” claim of God revealed in
Christ. The Christian has to be a “new creation.” Therefore he cannot find a
settled place for himself within the limits of the “old world.” In this sense
the Christian attitude is, as it were, always revolutionary with regard to the
“old order” of “this world.” Being “not of this world” the Church of Christ
Historical antinomies.
Historical
failures of the Church do not obscure the absolute and ultimate character of
its challenge, to which it is committed by its very eschatological nature, and
it constantly challenges itself.
Historical
life and the task of the Church are an antinomy, and this antinomy can never be
solved or overcome on a historical level. It is rather a permanent hint to what
is “to come” hereafter. The antinomy is rooted in the practical alternative
which the Church had to face from the very beginning of its historical
pilgrimage. Either the Church was to
be constituted as an exclusive and “totalitarian” society, endeavouring to
satisfy all requirements of the believers, both “temporal” and “spiritual,”
paying no attention to the existing order and leaving nothing to the external
world — it would have been an entire separation from the world, an ultimate
flight out of it, and a radical denial of any external authority. Or the
Church could attempt an inclusive Christianization of the world, subduing the
whole of life to Christian rule and authority, to reform and to reorganize
secular life on Christian principles, to build the Christian City Kingdom of God
There
is an inner consistency in both programmes. And therefore the separation of the
two ways is inevitable. Christians seem compelled to take different ways. The
unity of the Christian task is broken. An inner schism arises within the
Church: an abnormal separation between the monks (or the elite of the initiated) and the lay‑people (including clergy),
which is far more dangerous than the alleged “clericalization” of the Church.
In the last resort, however, it is only a symptom of the ultimate antinomy. The
problem simply has no historical solution. A true solution would transcend
history, it belongs to the “age to come.” In this age, on the historic plane,
no constitutional principle can be given, but only a regulative one: a
principle of discrimination, not a principle of construction.
For
again each of the two programmes is self‑contradictory. There is an inherent sectarian temptation in the first: the
“catholic” and universal character of the Christian message and purpose is here
at least obscured and often deliberately denied, the world is simply left out
of sight. And all attempts at the direct Christianization of the world, in the
guise of a Christian
State
In
our time nobody would consider it possible for everyone to be converted to a
universal monasticism or a realization of a truly Christian, and universal,
State. The Church remain “in the world,” as a heterogeneous body, and the
tension is stronger than it has ever been; the ambiguity of the situation is
painfully left by everyone in the Church. A practical program for the present
age can be deduced only from a restored understanding of the nature and essence
of the Church. And the failure of all Utopian expectations cannot obscure the
Christian hope: the King has come, the Lord Jesus, and His Kingdom is to come.
Orthodox Church Pakistan
www.ocpak.com
Editor: Bishop Alexander (Mileant)
Posted by: Fr. Cyril Amer
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