Jad Ganem: Weeping over the Ruins

Arabic original here.

 

Weeping over the Ruins

The meeting in Iznik, which welcomed the leaders of various churches and Christian groups to commemorate the 1700th anniversary of the First Council of Nicaea, ended in a symbolic scene amidst the ruins of the imperial palace and the Basilica of Saint Neophytus. The participants gathered to recite the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed, which still today defines the boundaries of the Christian faith, in an attempt to rekindle a spiritual spark that has gone out.

Patriarch Bartholomew opened the meeting with a speech in which he emphasized that the gathering is not merely a recognition of the past, but rather "a return to the pure source" that united the early Church and a call to proceed towards "perfection of unity." Pope Leo XIV, for his part, raised a direct theological question: "The 1700^th anniversary of the First Council of Nicaea is a precious opportunity to ask ourselves who Jesus Christ is in the lives of men and women today and how we can live out our witness in a broken world," emphasizing that overcoming divisions is necessary for any credible evangelical witness.

Nevertheless, the symbolism of the scene appeared much greater than its results. Compared to previous ecumenical meetings, this meeting was rather weak in terms of its attendance and representiveness and it did not issue any joint statement that would indicate that real breakthrough has been made.

On a practical level, the most prominent disappointment was the lack of any progress on the issue of having a single date for celebrating Easter, the very issue where the late Pope Francis had hoped to see a historic step taken on this occasion. The project, however, remained suspended and the commemoration of Nicaea did not bear the fruit that was expected of it.

On the Orthodox side, the picture of crisis was most evident: the Patriarch of Constantinople, flanked only by the Patriarch of Alexandria and representatives of Antioch and Jerusalem, while the other Orthodox churches had not even been invited at all. This picture can be summarized with a single word: division.

This picture confirmed a fact that is already well-known: Orthodoxy is fragmented and Constantinople is incapable of bringing the churches together around the same table, despite efforts to revive the "Pentarchy" as a substitute for an absent Orthodox conciliarity. However, despite the efforts to dust off the Pentarchy, it remains an artifact of a bygone period of history and is worthless for administering a vast, scattered and diverse Orthodox world.

The lesson that imposes itself--and not only on Constantinople, but on all the Orthodox churches--is that any effort toward Christian unity starts with the unity of the Orthodox themselves and that talk of ecumenism in light of this rupture will only amount to a nice photo-op without any content.

The deeper lesson, however, is that to flee from Orthodox unity to the glory of the Pentarchy is to flee from the future to the past. The future is not made on the thrones of the past, but among the people of God scattered throughout the world and torn between nationalities and the diaspora, which the churches are unable to pastor as they should on account of their internal conflicts and power struggles.

Thus, there emerge questions that cannot be ignored:

Would it not have been better to invite all the Orthodox churches to Iznik?

Should the priority not have been to resolve the differences between the Orthodox before appearing to the world as a divided church?

Would it not have been wiser for the churches of the Pentarchy not to succumb to Constantinople's desire to present a flimsy and unrealistic image of Orthodoxy?

Would it not have been better for the Orthodox to practice Nicene conciliarity... instead of commemorating it in its absence, as it itself has been transformed into ruins?

The image of Iznik 1700 is not a celebration, but a mirror.

A mirror reflecting a church that weeps over the ruins of an empire that has turned to dust, singing of a conciliarity that has also become a ruin that only exists in her imagination, instead of building unity that reconciles the past and the future.

There remains a final question, not before the ruins of palaces but before Christ Himself:

When will the Orthodox realize that they are not the church of the empire, but the Church of Christ? And when will they leave the ruins to go and forge the future? 

 

Jad Ganem: Diversity in Disintegration

Arabic original here.

 

 Diversity in Disintegration

1700 years after the Council of Nicaea, the Christian world returns to celebrate the event that established unity and purity of faith. The cruel irony is that this celebration, which is being held at the ruins of that very place that witnessed the First Ecumenical Council, comes as the Orthodox Church is experiencing one of the worst moments of disintegration and division in centuries. In this context, Pope Leo XIV makes a bold appeal, stating that "what unites us is much greater than what divides us" and calling for a path of reconciliation based on the Nicene Creed, which united the early Church.

The Orthodox reality, however, stands in stark contrast to this appeal. The divisions between Constantinople and Moscow are hardening into a theological-political struggle that drags the local Orthodox churches in its wake: churches break communion, others respond with opposing decisions, and yet others are left bewildered in a gray zone. Instead of "unity in diversity," Orthodoxy experiences diversity in disintegration.

The irony is that another chapter of division was opened with the contested recognition of the so-called "Orthodox Church of Ukraine," contrary to the spirit and decisions of Nicaea, while the Ukrainian Orthodox Church itself remains under legal and physical persecution in its homeland.

The Pope says that the Creed is the "bond of unity" and that dialogue is the only path to reconciliation. The Orthodox today, however, are incapable of even sitting down at the same table. Dialogue has been cut off, meetings have ceased, conciliarity has broken down--and indeed, has been rejected by some--and patriarchates have divided into opposing camps.

Pope Leo calls to "leave behind theological controversies that have lost their raison d’être" while the Orthodox world is still immersed in centuries-old debates about primacy, jurisdiction and prerogatives and is attempting to revive an outmoded "Pentarchy" or privileges that go back to the days of emperors and sultans.... as though Nicaea had never been held. 

Instead of a call for unity, as Pope Leo said, the blood of the martyrs that has been shed over the centuries across the Orthodox world has become fuel for stoking greater division. In Ukraine, brothers are killing each other and the killing is dressed up as sanctity. The largest Orthodox church is subject to accelerating persecution, while many churches keep silent and others act to legitimize the new situation, ignoring the open wound. 

Ukraine has become the place that patriarchates use to settle historical scores in the name of the faith, at the expense of the blood and tears of the faithful. 

The Pope recognizes that unity is "a long and arduous path" that starts with repentance, listening and mutual confession. The tragedy, however, is that Orthodoxy today does not have even the slightest desire to listen, nor the ability to see the other apart from geographical and political considerations. 

Nicaea, which united the Church, today reveals Orthodoxy's fragility and division.

Nicaea is not a celebration, but a judgment.

Nicaea is a prophetic question:

How can you celebrate the unity of the fourth century while you experience the splintering of the twenty-first century?

How can you lift high the Creed when you tear down its spirit?

How can you invoke the memory of the Fathers while you destroy what they built?

The 1700th anniversary of Nicaea is not a feast, but a warning.

It is not a commemoration: it is a judgment.

Do you want Nicaea to unite you, or do you want to bury your unity under its ruins? 

Jad Ganem: The Tragedy of Contemporary Orthodoxy

 Arabic original here.

 

The Tragedy of Contemporary Orthodoxy

In the spring 1992, a few months after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Patriarch Bartholomew invited the patriarchs and heads of autocephalous churches to a historic meeting at the patriarchal headquarters at the Phanar in Istanbul.

At that time, the Orthodox world was facing a major period of transformation: countries were leaving communist captivity for freedom, churches were being revived after decades of repression, and divisions started to come to the surface again after decades of having been frozen by the previous political regime.

At that meeting, which was held on the occasion of the Sunday of Orthodoxy, the participants expressed their shared consciousness of the magnitude of the challenges that the Church was facing in the post-communist era.

In their closing statement, they declared that "The Holy Orthodox Church throughout the world, since she abides in the world and is inevitably affected by the changes that take place there, today finds herself confronted with serious and urgent problems that she wishes to treat as a single body."

That key phrase amounted to a declaration of intent to restore the Orthodox conciliarity that brought the local churches together in unity of faith and canons on the basis of the words of the Apostle Paul: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it" (1 Corinthians 12:26).

At that time, Constantinople was not behaving as a "ruling church" with special privileges, but as a "servant of unity," working to coordinate the Orthodox body in the face of the divisions that had begun to emergy, especially with the appearance of the so-called "Kyiv Patriarchate" established by Filaret Denysenko after he failed to attain the position of patriarch of Moscow.

Those gathered at that meeting called for spiritual and canonical unity, stating that schism is no less dangerous than heresy and that "even the blood of martyrdom does not erase the sin of schism," in the words of Saint John Chrysostom.

At the start of the third millennium, Patriarch Bartholomew renewed his initiative and invited the patriarchs of the churches to another gathering of a comprehensive ecclesiastical and humanitarian character. The heads of the churches met in Bethlehem where they celebrated the Nativity service according to the Julian Calendar at the Church of the Nativity with the participation of the heads of Orthodox countries, and released a joint message entitled "The Incarnation and Nativity of Jesus Christ: A Guarantee of the Sanctification of History and the World."

That meeting was a continuation of the spirit of conciliarity that brought the Orthodox churches together in a single worldview, in which Orthodoxy offered a message of salvation to the modern era instead of being closed in on itself.

On December 26, 2000 this path was completed with a festal liturgy at the ancient cathedral of Haghia Sophia in Nicaea, where a document "to the Church and the world" was signed. It resembled a global Orthodox declaration that affirmed the unity of faith and diversity of churches at a moment when Orthodoxy appeared as a single cohesive body, despite internal disagreements.

Now that a quarter-century has passed since Nicaea 2000, Patriarch Bartholomew is once again making invitations to a new celebration on the occasion of the 1700th anniversary of the First Council of Nicaea (325 AD).

However, what was supposed to have been a general celebration of Orthodox unity has turned into a limited celebration to which only the patriarchs of the Pentarchy (Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch and Jerusalem) were invited, with the attendance of Pope Leo XIV, representing the See of Rome, indicating the Pentarchy of patriarchs that preceded the Great Schism, based on a new classification by which Constantinople considers the local churches that obtained their autocephaly in recent decades to be canonically subject to its authority.

This change in the nature of the invitation reflects a dramatic retreat from the ecclesiastical vision that governed the previous meetings. After having previously invited all the autocephalous churches to dialogue and participation, today Constantinople limits the meeting to a narrow, symbolic group going back to a time prior to the establishment of the modern autocephalous churches which  constitute the numerical majority of Orthodox in the world.

Limiting the invitation to the patriarchs of the Pentarchy can only be read as a sign of the decline of Orthodox conciliarity, the disappearance of channels of dialogue between the Orthodox churches, and an increase in the nationalistic and political character of the local churches' identities.

In this sense, Nicaea 2025 is not an extension of Nicaea 2000, but rather a break with it, since it expresses contemporary Orthodoxy's inability to come together around a single table, transforming the meeting into a symbol of division, not of unity.

In 1992, the idea of the Orthodox Church as a body capable of suffering and recovering together was born at the Phanar. In 2025, it seems that Orthodoxy's body is divided, with each member suffering alone. 

The Patriarchate of Constantinople has gone from a theology of unity and conciliarity to a politics of axes and historical symbolism. Instead of being the servant of unity, it has become the instrument of division.

And so, the new meeting at Nicaea comes to embody the tragedy of contemporary Orthodoxy: churches rooted in faith but unable to come together in one body like they did a quarter-century ago. 

At Nicaea 325, the Creed was born.

At Nicaea 2000, the unity of the Orthodox churches was celebrated.

As for Nicaea 2025, a new chapter is being written in the story of lost Orthodox unity.

History will inevitably judge everyone who contributed to and participated in writing this story! 

Jad Ganem: Antioch between Conciliarity and Unilateral Decision-making

 Arabic original here.

 

Antioch between Conciliarity and Unilateral Decision-making

Recent information points to intensive ecclesiastical and diplomatic activity conducted by Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople to prepare for the celebration of the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, as a part of which he is attempting to revive the system of the "Pentarchy" as the framework of reference for administering Orthodoxy worldwide in the future, as he himself openly declared during his recent visit to Romania.

Some sources indicate that Patriarch Bartholomew is greatly counting on the patriarch of Antioch's presence by his side during this event and considers his participation to be symbolic support for a revival of the historical 'Pentarchy', which he sees as necessary for putting the affairs of Orthodoxy in order in the immediate future, especially given that the patriarch of Antioch is the only non-Greek patriarch within this framework.

It has been confirmed that the patriarch of Antioch received two official invitations to participate:

The first on September 5, delivered by the metropolitan of Chalcedon during his visit to Balamand, and the second on the 15th of the same month, delivered personally to His Beatitude by the Turkish ambassador.

According to what is stated in Patriarch Bartholomew's recent speech, it seems that Patriarch John accepted the invitation in principle and confirmed his participation in the celebration.

However, it is noteworthy-- and indeed, raises questions--that one of the metropolitans of the See of Antioch was not aware of this invitation and that the Holy Synod of Antioch, which recently met, did not discuss the issue at all.

Apart from any debate about the usefulness or dangers of participating, which is an issue that is supposed to be discussed in a conciliar manner, there remains the deeper problem of decision-making within the Church of Antioch.

According to Paragraph 14 of the Basic Statute of the Patriarchate of Antioch, the synod is responsible for "deciding the nature and extent of the Church of Antioch's relations with the autocephalous Orthodox churches and other religious bodies."

Likewise, Paragraph 22 of the Internal Statute stipulates that the synod is the one who "appoints the committee on ecumenical affairs, whose task is to study issues raised by the sister churches and various religious bodies." 

As for the patriarch, although according to the statute he is "the symbol of the unity of the Antiochian Church and the instrument of her connection to the universal Church," he cannot act alone in these matters, because "Antiochian delegations are formed with the approval of the relevant synodal committees."

This situation brings to mind what Metropolitan Georges Khodr, the historical leader of the ecumenical relations committee, wrote when he clearly stated:

 "If the patriarch acts outside the See of Antioch, he does not speak for himself, but rather expresses the view of the Holy Synod. He does not say, 'This is the position of the Church of Antioch' unless he is armed with a decision of the Holy Synod. He is the synod's spokesman who conveys the mind of his brothers."

 On the basis of this principle, any decision or commitment taken in Antiochian Church's name outside the framework of the synod is deemed to be lacking ecclesiastical legitimacy because the synod is the living conscience of the church and the guarantor of her independence and credibility within the Orthodox family.

 But questions remain legitimate:

Why did he not submit the invitation to the synod that met shortly after he received it?

Why has the committee for ecumenical relations still not been activated?

Why have external relations been reduced to the will of one individual, when even Constantinople--which promotes the theory of "first without equals"--relies on standing committees to discuss issues and makes decisions during the monthly meetings of its synod?

Even more worrying is the silence of the metropolitans about this, their undeclared resignation from their conciliar role, and their surrender to a logic of unilateral decision-making in matters pertaining to the See of Antioch's role and future.

Have sessions of the Holy Synod of Antioch become mere training courses that are organized from time to time? Are they now being convened as a decoration, for image and media-hype rather than for making decisions?

Has the Patriarchate of Antioch been transformed into a system of unilateral management, after having been the model for conciliarity and dialogue?

Antioch's pioneering role in the Orthodox world is not achieved through courtesies of  protocol, but by giving life to the spirit of true conciliarity based on study, consultation and constructive scrutiny, not on the will of a single individual.

Today the Antiochian bishops are called to bear their responsibilities before God and their people and to reactivate conciliarity as the guarantor of the Church's unity and credibility, because if authority is separated from consultation, it loses its meaning and because every authority needs a counterbalance that keeps it from transgressing its natural boundaries.

The question remains open:

Will Antioch go to Nicaea by a unilateral decision that weakens what remains of her deep tradition of conciliarity?

Or will she make her decision on the basis of ecclesiastical conciliarity, in harmony with her history and her role in establishing the principle of consultation among the churches?

Whatever the case may be, the faithful have the right to know, because the Church is not the patriarch or the synod alone. She is the entire people of God, this people that will not be driven like a silent flock, but rather participates in shaping the future of their Church and her witness in this world. 

Venera Kotchlamazashvili on the 17th Century Arabic Translation of the Typikon

 Venera Kotchlamazashvili, "Peculiarities of the 17th c. Arabic Translation of the Typicon of Mar Sabas's Laura and Its Role in the Revival of Christian Arabic Literature," Herald of Oriental Studies 1 (2025), 564-583.

 Abstract:

This paper deals with the development of 17th century Christian Arabic literature and discusses the significance of one of its literary monuments. In the 17th century, both the clergy and the laity of the Patriarchate of Antioch were Arabic-speaking Christians, and the renewal of translation processes contributed to raising the level of education among the clergy in their native language. This study places particular emphasis on the Arabic translation of the Typicon of Mar Sabas, which, as a significant example of ecclesiastical literature, plays an important role in the Greek Orthodox liturgical tradition. This research is based on comparative-philological, historical, and linguistic methodologies, which allow for an analysis of the textual and structural changes in the translations. The paper analyzes the main manuscripts that reflect the linguistic and cultural tendencies of the period. The findings of the study indicate that Christian Arabic literature is not only a component of religious practice but also a significant phenomenon within a broader cultural and linguistic context, reflecting the transformation of Greco-Syriac traditions within the Arabic cultural sphere.

Download the entire article here.