Women in the Orthodox Church
Brief Comments from a Spiritual Perspective
by Archimandrite [now Archbishop] Chrysostomos
Anyone reading the sublime words of the Orthodox Church Fathers
is immediately struck with a number of overwhelming impressions. First, there emanates
from their words a certain sense, by which all that is written seems intuitively
true—as though some inner cord were struck in the reader, resounding harmonically
with the tone of what the Fathers have written. Then, the more one reads of the Fathers,
the more one feels, despite notable differences in their writing styles, modes of
expression, and subjects of attention, that they are making one single statement, saying
the same thing; although the content of that statement be elusive and more warm the heart
than stimulate the mere intellect. And finally, though at times there is apparent
hyperbole (an impression that comes to us because we are too often cold to the impulse of
holy zeal), and though one cannot find in the Fathers the lack of commitment and
detachment from moral absolutes which we today so wrongly call "objectivity,"
the Fathers reveal a sense of moderation; they convey, amid their concerns for pure truth
and undiluted veracity, a knowledge which is neither to the "right" nor to the
"left," which is perfectly balanced by that mystical and universal equilibrium
which is truth itself.
It is precisely these characteristics of the patristic writings which define that
subtle cornerstone of Orthodox life: spirituality. Transferred from written word to
personal life, they describe the holy person. Raised from image to experience, they
portray the inner life of every Christian. The Fathers shared, in every way, the fullness
of the Orthodox life, and it is this completeness which permeates their writings. They
express the experience to which each of us is called, and inwardly we see this, if we are
attentive and moderate in our own views. It is this spirituality, alas, that is absent in
the discussion of the role of women in the Orthodox Church today. So, the discussion has
become extreme (immoderate), secular, and worldly—detached from the inner life and
spiritual experience. There have developed opposition parties, diametrically opposed
views, warring factions, and intemperate antagonists, the latter expressing profound,
spiritual issues in the arena of counter-spiritual emotions and dispositions.
Let us look at the general reaction among Orthodox thinkers to the modern discussion of
the role of women in the Church. On the one hand, we have the very "traditional"
view, expressing a conservative attitude toward the social role of women in general. I
have often read of, and heard expressed, images of women that are in almost total concord
with the old German expression, "Kinder und Kuche"—women are
essentially for child-bearing and for cooking. In Greek we think of the notion of
"oikokyrosyne," the woman of the house." It is argued, from this point of
view, that women have an essential "nature" such that they appropriately belong
to the home. The things of the home are fundamentally and somehow appropriately suited to
the female gender. One senses, in the more extreme advocates of this view, the notion that
the social roles of females are perhaps dogmatic, that women are universally relegated, by
a God-given command, to the home and its concerns.
On the other hand, we find ample evidence, in all of the media in American society,
that women are willing to sacrifice every notion of their separate and unique identity in
order to break the bonds of the presumably man-made social roles which constrain them in
their actions and behaviors. It is not unusual for women to deny even their physiological
distinctions from the male and to advocate the most extreme form of "sexual
equality." In the frenzy of this denial process, they paradoxically often claim for
themselves the right to the same abusive characteristics which men have ostensibly
exhibited in exercising their prejudicial authority over women. And often, from the
psychological standpoint, the intemperance of these women leads them to crises in sexual
identity, further resulting in behavior of such an abominable kind that it bears little
protracted comment.
In lecturing at several Orthodox parishes, I have been shocked at times (and, needless
to say, saddened) at the growing popularity of extremist feminist views among Orthodox
women. I have actually heard St. Paul, in view of his statements regarding the role of
women in the Church, described in modern rhetorical terms that no casual, let alone pious,
Orthodox Christian would ever have used in times past. I have been asked quite bluntly by
some of these same women how I could feel that I was somehow worthy of the priesthood and
yet had the audacity to support the notion that women are unworthy. Is this not, I have
been asked, an arrogance inappropriate to the humility of the priesthood? In yet another
instance, a woman declared to me that, as a human being and as a Christian, she had every
right to the priesthood. She referred to the Holy Fathers of the Church (who, contrary to
her mistaken thought, include the Holy Mothers of Orthodoxy) as a band of "male
chauvinists" who had tried to maintain the power of their offices by the constant
denigration of women! (If I offend the reader with the repetition of these sentiments, it
is a necessary evil. The true Christian apologist must be aware, however painful the
facts, of the content and of the gravity of what he intends to combat.)
Indeed, both of these arguments regarding women are faulty. In the first place, there
is nothing at all truly "traditional" about assigning a certain
"nature" to women. True it is, many of the great ascetic Fathers warn monks
about the wiles of Eve that exist in the female character, but the counterpart of this is
the submission of the male counterpart of Adam in sinning monks. Yet in no sense do we
attribute to males a certain "nature," as such, which defines their social
roles. Indeed, these images are meant for male and female monastics and are, rather than
statements of blame for this or that sin or temptation against one or another of the
sexes, practical advice in the pursuit of the angelic life which, after all, transcends
human "nature." In addition, when we, as Orthodox, speak of fallen men and
women, we speak, as compared to the heterodox Westerners, in relative terms. From St.
Maximos the Confessor to St. Seraphim of Sarov, the Fathers of the Church have emphasized
that, while we are spotted by the ancestral sin (by the ancestral curse, etc.), we have
never lost the divine image. Were this not so, St. Seraphim argues, what of the great and
divine Prophets? From whence their holiness? It is Christ Who restored us (potentially) to
our full and true natures. He fulfilled what lingered within us, what enlightens every man
coming into the world. As for the fallen "nature," it is not a fixed, universal
characteristic of man. It is typical of his fallen state.
The very message of Orthodoxy, then, is that men and and women are called away from the erroneous "natures" which they have
taken to themselves, away from the labor and pain, to deification, to union with God,
through the grace of Christ. The very task of the Church in the world is to preserve this
notion of salvation, to protect the vessel in which rests this great and sacred potential.
If, then, the Church exalts the woman as child-bearer, it is to lift her nature, to
emphasize her unique social role. But should she choose to be called to the higher
"nature" Of holiness, the Holy Church even more greatly honors her. In that
higher calling, she gives birth to Christ, as did the Blessed Theotokos, bearing "asomatos"
("in an unbodily way"), as St. Maximos says, God within her. And this
potential is not that of women alone, but of men, too. The spiritual child-bearing of the
human is a male and female role.
Thus it is that we must not speak too boldly about women in society. If "Kinder
und Kuche" are our banner words, we discredit those holy women who surpassed
human nature. We dishonor the Holy Mothers and women saints of the Church. We impose on
women a role which must never be overemphasized or placed above the higher spiritual
calling of man and women. Moreover, in a certain sense we fail to understand that
the worldly role of women in the Orthodox Church, as evidenced by the Byzantine empresses
who stand as saints in the Holy Church, is not dogmatized and fixed. There are, as always,
exceptions, paradoxes, and unique circumstances which a rigid view can never capture.
Indeed, the liberty to fulfill the role to which God calls us must never be compromised by
those roles which we preserve as salutary for the correct ordering of society.
Our goals together, as Orthodox men and women, are to make society, as much as
possible, an image of the divine. To do this, the family must be sacrosanct and the
parents must fulfill the roles necessary to the preservation of social order. But this
means that men and women must be caretakers in the home together, that they must be what
they are because a greater goal than fulfilling social roles or would-be
"natures" calls them. This is not the denigration of the man or woman, but the
calling of each to serve ultimately spiritual goals. And if these roles are violated and
the spiritual welfare of the family and the children are compromised, then we can speak of
duty and assigned responsibilities. (And so St. Paul chastises the women of the Church
when they introduce disorder into its life. Thus he tells women to be obedient to their
husbands, if they disturb the spiritual welfare of the family. But these chastisements are
as much for males who violate these rules of order as they are for women. The question is
one of practical living, not one of "natures" and so on.) But this is the lower
life; in the higher life, there are neither men nor women nor the obedient and
disobedient. Rather, one provokes not the other, as with parents and children, and harmony
is born.
We run the risk, if we become rigid in our views of social order, of ruling out the
inner fulfillment which makes a mother what she is and a father what he is. Things done in
fulfillment of the laws are dead; those done in spirit are enlivening and vivifying. We
must not build an Orthodoxy of prescriptions and proscriptions, but an Orthodoxy in which
God expresses through us the Kingdom of Heaven and in which that which is worldly reaches
up to its more heavenly image. Each of us is chastised by the famous Amma in the desert
who hastened to inform a monk (who had crossed to the other side of the road when she and
her disciples passed) that had he been a perfect monk, he would not have known that they
were women. If we live our Orthodoxy appropriately, we need not define with rigidity the
nature of our relationships, men and women, to one another. We will live within that
perfect peace by which each knows his role, not out of the imposition of another's will,
but out of humility before God. And in this humility, how dare any man think that he is
above a woman or a woman above a man, anymore than a priest might think himself, superior
to the royal priesthood of the people whom he serves.
As regards the so-called "feminist" position (of which we hear so much
today), there are certain issues on which the Orthodox Christian (if not, perhaps, the
rational individual) cannot yield. We do affirm and recognize an order, meaning, and
functional differentiation in created things. Thus our Faith teaches us that the female is
endowed by God with certain characteristics and tendencies that differ from those of men.
(And this, rather than detracting from her, elevates her as part of the divine scheme. By
no means does this teaching suggest. or tolerate the relegating of women to some lowly
status.) Moreover, our intellects and senses teach us that women and men differ. We border
on the insane (not an unusual thing in these bizarre times) if we deny the biological
roles of men and women in procreation. These roles are verified by the external, physical
distinctions of gender. And even the most radical psychological portrayals of men and
women readily admit to fundamental differences between the sexes in cognitive style and
mental functioning. (Paradoxically enough, it is part of the feminist movement itself that
psychological profiles and categories standardized on males are not appropriate in the
assessment of female behavior.)
Again, however, these rudimentary statements cannot be overstated. They
"characterize" a role; they do not dogmatize it. They have reference to the
redeemed individual and should not necessarily be applied to the human in his fallen
state. And it is here where both extremes regarding the image of women go similarly
astray. On the one hand, the fallen "nature" of the woman is assigned to her by
the would-be traditionalist as the character of her entire being, forgetting the divine
image of the female. On the other hand, the feminist position overemphasizes the divine
image of the female, thereby wishing to free its proponents of the necessity of conquering
human "nature"—a task, as we have repeatedly stated, that belongs to man
and woman alike. It is, then, aside from the blasphemy of extreme rhetoric, foolish to
speak of St. Paul's view of women. He speaks from practical experience of the
weaknesses of the female—the counterparts of which can be found in men (imagine the
reaction of the Cretans, both men and women, to the blessed Apostle's statements regarding
that people). He also speaks of the spiritual nature of women. If we make no distinction
regarding the spiritual and fallen natures of women, we simply fail to understand St. Paul
in an intelligent way. We come to extreme views.
Something must be said, now, of the way in which we should learn to understand the
words of St. Paul. We must approach them with spiritual sobriety, asking that the power
within the words (en to logo, within the word itself) reveal their ultimate truth.
Otherwise, we become students of the Bible, joining those unwise and foolish Orthodox who
wildly rush to analyze and, thereby, distort the meaning of Scripture by making the mere
words understandable to their intellects. If we properly understand Biblical exegesis in
the Church, we know that the modern "Bible study" is, quite simply,
"un-Orthodox." For us to glean notions and images of women, then, from Biblical
statements is fruitless and not within the Church's Tradition. If we fulfill the Orthodox
life (with fasting, prescribed prayers, services, and the pursuit of humility), the
icon of the words of Scripture will be revealed to us and its grace will flood our minds.
We will know, noetically and mystically, precisely what St. Paul wrote and what he meant,
for his words will be our own, joined to us in our common source in Christ.
We cannot, here, overstate the absolute necessity of understanding how we are to read
Scripture—for the improper reading of St. Paul has led both to the errors on the
"right" and those on the "left" in the assessment of women in the
Orthodox Church. The late Protopresbyter Georges Florovsky has left us some keen insights
into the nature of Scripture in the Church. In so many ways, he hearkens repeatedly back
to St. Irenaeus' vision of Scripture. St. Irenaeus, in his well-known dissertation against
a certain heretical sect, compares the person who uses his intellect to understand
Scripture to an artist, who wrongly uses stones to create a mosaic portrait of a dog, when
in fact the components of the mosaic might rightfully create the portrait of a king. In
short, the final portrait depends on the vision of the artist when he begins his project.
If he knows that it is a king that he is to portray, he does so. If he does not, he might
neatly fit the stones together and create a hideous image. And so, one who attempts to
understand Scripture without first being enlightened by the very content and spirit of
Scripture itself (envisioning it as the perfect icon of theological grace), will likely
hideously distort what Scripture means.
In a more specific sense, St. Paul argues for the proper ordering of the Church in his
statements regarding women. And, as we often fail to recognize, he makes distinctions
between function and nature. Anyone schooled and experienced in the subtle paradox of
spiritual life recognizes this sense in St. Paul. Not to recognize it leads to
overstatements that yield either a non-Orthodox view of the spiritual potential of women
or a wholly secular reaction against spirituality that dooms one to eternal ruination.
To speak to the issue of women in the priesthood is to recognize that on this issue,
too, extreme voices have distorted the truth. Let us return to the moderation of what the
Fathers teach us. No man, St. John Chrysostom tells us, is worthy of the priesthood (and
here we mean "men" as males and females). Yet for the functioning of the Church,
we have a priesthood. It is, therefore, not a "right" which one holds, but a
burden which one takes upon himself with the greatest fear and trembling—the
archpriesthood epitomizing this deep fear in the human soul. Somewhere in the moderation
between knowing oneself unworthy of the priesthood and trembling before the fact of its
reality, the priest exists. If he moves away from this delicate understanding, he imperils
his soul. Enough, then, of any person, be he man or woman, claiming .1
rights" to the priesthood. This is spiritual folly and a total
misunderstanding of the visible manifestation of Christ's Church. It is foolishness
inviting internal death.
It follows that in the early Church, the priesthood should have been restricted in
every possible way. It is a fact that we received some traditions from the Jews, and that
the Jewish priesthood was male. The Church is real, existing in reality, expressing the
life of real people. It should not be strange, therefore, if we see the priesthood
restricted to males. And yet, the Church manifested its supra-historical nature to us.
Females, too, within the limits of the great regard the Church showed toward the
priesthood, shared in priestly grace. Have we forgotten, perhaps, that the diaconate has
been held by females, that social order, Church law, and human nature" at times yield
to the spiritual? We have forgotten. We have so formalized the priesthood, so
"Westernized" our understanding of it, that we have somehow reduced the grace
and magnificence of the diaconate to a secondary position. We have come to think of the
deacon and deaconess as "half-priests," as though ordination could be measured
and quantified in terms of the "amount" of grace bestowed. Who dares to assign
greater grace to St. John Chrysostom (a patriarch) than to St. Stephen the First Deacon
and Martyr? Where does one find a sober Father speaking in such terms? Woe to us Orthodox
if we forget that even in the priesthood, in a subtle way, the spiritual role of the
female and male made one in Christ triumphs.
Do we, as Orthodox, finally, deny the ministry to women? No! Nor do we guarantee it to
men. Nor do we minutely define it, as though it were under the microscope of the
scientist. Nor do we violate its beauty by reducing it to a mere position or role. It is
much more. And what it is no man can claim with worthiness and no woman can claim by
right. It is held by God's mercy and fails to burn and consume the unworthy holder, only
because he is "girt with the grace of
the priesthood." This economy, this mercy, is extended to males and females, in the
most technical sense, and to speak of the male or female character of the priesthood is to
misunderstand this extension and to distort and change the nature of the priesthood. Any
true servant, be he archpriest, presbyter, deacon, or deaconess, stands where he is
precisely because he is neither man nor woman and precisely because God has granted him
the grace to set aside his own, sinful nature in this one instance. Understanding this,
the issue of the priesthood transcends social roles. It is wrong to speak of it in such a
context. The priesthood, ministry to the people, and service in the Church do not belong
to the realm of sexual distinction, declarations of differing natures, or human prattle.
Their focus is eternal, spiritual, and noumenal. They are the wards of a dimension where
extremes do not exist, where all truth is witnessed in the royal way, in the mystical
truth encompassed only by moderation.
Moderation in thought and attitudes manifests itself to us also in flesh and blood, so
that we can see in sober Orthodox men and women exactly what is wrong with our present
intemperate thinking about men and women in "roles" dictated by their
"natures." Where, indeed, are such thoughts in the tear-evoking sweetness of the
encounter of the Elder Zossima with our wondrous Mother, Saint Mary of Egypt? Can one
imagine the holy elder saying to himself, "Being a priest, I shall bless -this saint,
for I am, by nature, worthy of that which she, by nature, is not"? God forbid!
Rather, the holy elder fell before our beloved Mother and asked that she bless him. And could it be that the wondrous woman among God's
saints said to herself, I will bless this man, since he, indeed, must know that I have a right
to the priesthood"? Indeed, no. Which of us can forego tears thinking of what truly happened? Falling prostrate before the
holy elder, St. Mary begged his forgiveness, the two remaining for some time thus
prostrated before one another, each saying, "Eulogeite," or
"Bless." As we all know, the Holy Mother, deferring to Father Zossima's
priesthood, wished his blessing. And what a lesson to learn from the result. She cried
out, "Blessed is our God, who watches over the salvation of souls and people."
And the holy elder responded, "Amen."
Shame, hence, to each of us who proclaims either the man or the woman superior, or
pretends to know the proper role and nature of each. This is arrogance , immoderation,
intellectual pomposity, and the usurpation of judgments which only God can make. In true
spirituality, distinctions, both formal and informal, disappear. This is not to say that
we should, in any way, allow our social responsibilities to go unheeded in the name of
human freedom and illusory, worldly liberty. Certainly we must not in any sense feel akin
to movements which threaten social and spiritual order. But neither should we decide that
there are clear offices and stations in life which, gleaned from an improper understanding
of the spiritual world, absolutely fix the role of any person, whether Lord or serf,
freeman or slave, man or woman. We live between the two antipodes of our future existence:
separation from God, the fruit of our mortal way, and union with God, the fruit of the
spiritual way—between Hell and Heaven. We must correctly envision ourselves in this
middle state, reflecting as it does. our notions of men and women. If we are too extreme
in the mortal sense, we lower the image of God in man. If we are too extreme in the
spiritual sense, we suffer from the delusion of aspiring to what we are without proper
transformation of our fallen selves.
In some ways, perhaps, I have been immoderate in my statements about women in the
Orthodox Church. Certainly this must be so, for I, more than the reader, know that the
sublime beauty of the moderation of the words of the Holy Fathers is not to be found in my
own words. But if I have erred, it is error, not in my counsel, but in the manner in which
I have expressed some ideas. And if I can be rightfully condemned for counseling
temperance, I have done so with immoderation. This forgiveness I ask of the reader.
From Orthodox Life, Vol. 31, No. 1 (Jan-Feb, 1981),
pp. 34-41.
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