Cultism Revisited
A Corrective to Mr. Moss' Rejoinder
by Bishop Auxentios and Hieromonk Gregory
In the combined summer-autumn 1996 issue of Orthodox Tradition (Vol.
XIII, Nos. 3 & 4), in a short critique entitled Monasticism
and Cultism (pp. 47-50), Archimandrite Akakios addressed certain overstatements
in an otherwise commendable article by Father Alexey Young, Cults Within &
Without, which appeared in the March-April 1996 issue of Orthodox America
(Vol. XV, No. 7 [1391, pp. 10-11). His critique, in turn, prompted a critical
response from Vladimir Moss, published in the July 1996 issue of Orthodox
America: Cultism
Within: A Rejoinder (Vol. XVI, No. 1 [141], pp. 11-12), which also makes
some important and valuable points. In her introduction to Mr. Moss's rejoinder,
the editor of Orthodox America notes that "Father Akakios' attempt to
qualify or moderate Father Alexey's warnings on false elders within the Church...contained...certain
errors which only tend to underline the truth and importance of Father Alexey's
words." She then characterizes Mr. Moss's unsolicited rejoinder "...not so much
as a defense of Fr. Alexey's article as...a valuable extention [sic], adding
that, having deliberately deleted references to the source... [and]...author
of Father Akakios' critique, ...it is not our intent to debate the subject,
[but] merely to clarify [it]."
In responding to Mr. Moss's
extension to Father Alexey's comments, we, too, wish to avoid debate. Our
purpose is twofold: first, to restate and to clarify the main points contained
in Father Akakios' critique of Father Alexey's article on Eldership and
Orthodox cultism, which points Mr. Moss at times misunderstands and mis-states;
and second, to offer a corrective balance to the latters own fall to
overstatement and a spirit of excessive apocalypticism, a fall that could lead
an incautious reader into serious error. With regard to these endeavors, let us
make it clear that we are not attributing error to Mr. Moss or, for that
matter, to Father Alexey. The issue of Eldership, especially, is one which
touches on the area of pastoral matters, where the antipodes of right and
wrong do not apply. It is for this reason that the attribution of errors by
the lay editor of an Orthodox Church periodical to the Abbot of an Orthodox
monastery writing about monastic guidance is perhaps inappropriate, even if the
latter is not identified by name. The delicate subject of spiritual guidance
should never be approached with a spirit of advocacy and counter-advocacy. We
must simply seek to understand differing views in a spirit of mutual
edification.
Mr. Moss begins his rejoinder by
saying that "Father Akakios, in his response to Father Alexey, chides the
latter for talking about monasticism at all, since it is, he observes,
an estate which, in general, cannot be adequately studied outside its confines,
and especially by non-monastics" [emphasis added]. Father Akakios simply
points out, as his words, independent of Mr. Moss's addendum to them,
affirm, that in general a non-monastic Priest (or, in the case of Mr.
Moss, a layman), lacking the Grace of the monastic tonsure and, by definition,
the particular insights that ideally derive from years of struggle and
experience within that estate, must undertake any consideration of the Angelic
life only with trepidation and acknowledging his inadequacy in fully
understanding that life. A priori, he must understand that he is an
outsider looking in. Indeed, one of the points that Father Akakios makes
repeatedly in his response to Father Alexey's consideration of monasticism is
that it is a uniquely Grace-filled institution not to be trifled with,
even when it apparently comes to naught.
We have no qualms, in this same
vein, about Mr. Moss's contention that, "Fr. Alexey, as a pastor of laymen, has
every right to express an opinion on the subject of demands for monastic-style
obedience...by laymen from their parish Priests." Father Akakios and we would be
the first to agree with both Father Alexey and Mr. Moss that parish Priests are
in no position to make such demands. In fact, the communities received into the
modernistic Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese several years ago from a
former Evangelical Protestant sect have often been the object of our criticism,
in the pages of Orthodox Tradition, for the misuse of monastic-like
obedience in their parishes—an abuse which Father Akakios has openly
characterized as cultism, as a matter of fact. Father Akakios' warnings about
Father Alexey's comments on monastic obedience, as a careful reading of his
critique will reveal, center on those instances in which Father Alexey goes
beyond parish matters and addresses the institution of monasticism itself. And
if Mr. Moss finds Father Akakios' wholly charitable admonitions in this respect
objectionable, we might contrast them against the rather stark words of the
Optina Elder Saint Anatoly, written to a nun under his spiritual direction about
those in the world who undertake to criticize the monastic estate: "[They] swarm
around without any consciousness of what they are doing, like worms burrowing in
the dirt. All they do is look at other peoples weaknesses and judge monastics
as worthless—whereas they themselves have no conception of monasticism. And even
concerning God and the future life, they speak alluding to books read long ago
or even simply off the top of their heads."
Mr. Moss goes on, in his
rejoinder, to discuss the nature of Eldership in general. In so doing, he
introduces an artificial dichotomy in Orthodox spiritual life, that of obedience
to truly Spirit-bearing elders and other forms of monastic obedience, the
implication being that obedience shown to a truly Spirit-bearing elder is
somehow more effectively salvific than simple monastic obedience. This false
distinction arises when Mr. Moss too narrowly interprets the thought of I. M.
Kontzevich, who defines a true elder as having, among other gifts, the gift of
prophecy, i.e., the gift of clairvoyance. In a subtle way, he unwittingly
suggests that spirit-bearing Elders fall into one class, false Elders into a
second, and simple monastic superiors— those who mediate other forms of
monastic obedience—into a third. Thus, one who, by inference, sees the future
and demonstrates supernatural powers is an Elder, while a false Elder is one who
pretends to have such powers, and those who do not demonstrate them belong to
another category of spiritual leadership. As in the arguments put forth by
Father Alexey, too, about false Elders, Mr. Moss fails to grasp the wider
dimensions of prophetic gifts.
As countless spiritual writings
and Scripture itself attest, the gifts of prophecy and clairvoyance are not
necessarily extraordinary manifestations of premonition and prescience.
Endurance, love, and humility are also prophetic gifts; and to the extent that
they bring us face-to-face with spiritual truth, they involve the highest form
of clairvoyance: a clear vision of God in His Energies. Subtle spiritual insight
and discretion likewise border on clairvoyance, and the prophetic dimensions of
spiritual guidance often involve such seemingly commonplace things as calling a
sinner to repentance, offering confessional succor, and administering the
Mysteries of the Church. Too frequently we dismiss the overwhelming miracle of
the resurrection of a sinful soul as something which pales before the
resurrection of the dead, notwithstanding the fact that Angels in Heaven rejoice
over the former, a true and often lasting victory over human nature, while the
resurrection of a dead body, a miracle which nonetheless culminates in eventual
death, was almost ordinary to a number of Saints. We must not, once more, limit
the sphere of the spiritual to what is dramatically supernatural—and this
especially so among laymen. Thus, Saint John of the Ladder advises us, in
choosing a spiritual Father, not to seek those who have the gift of
foreknowledge and foresight, but rather those who are unquestionably humble and
whose character and place of residence corresponds to our maladies.
Given what we have said, it is
little wonder that Mr. Moss expresses befuddlement at Father Akakios' assertion,
in his response to Father Alexey's misunderstanding of Eldership as a personal
attribute, that, ...our obedience within monasticism, covered as we are by the
Grace of the sacred tonsure, produces Eldership. Eldership is not personal.
Wherever there is sincere monastic obedience, there is Eldership. If true
Eldership were exclusively determined by the presence or absence of dramatic
elements of clairvoyance in one's spiritual Father, as Mr. Moss assumes, then it
would indeed be something personal, focusing on some psychic quality in the
Elder; and, in such a case, his contention that Father Akakios "...implies that
the grace of eldership comes, not from above, but from below..." would carry
some weight. But, of course, such a contention deviates from the basic notion of
Eldership found in the Patristic consensus. It has always been understood that
the Grace of Eldership is precisely that: Grace; i.e., an outpouring of
Divine Energy from Heaven to earth. We Orthodox are, after all, not atheists; we
assume that God acts in all spiritual things. When we speak of spiritual power,
we presuppose that it is the product of Divine Grace and not a mere personal
predisposition or charisma. As one exemplary practitioner of monastic
obedience, highly respected in Greece for his extensive knowledge of the Fathers
and his own personal sanctity, declares: "[A monk] is always prepared, that he
might, with the Prophet Samuel, immediately respond to the call to obedience and
self-abnegation. Speak, O Lord, for thy servant hears. However, the Lord
speaks to us through our Elder. The spiritual Father is given authority
from on high....The spiritual Father exercises an authority which Heaven
reveres and before which demons tremble."
So it is that when a monk is
tonsured, that is, when he is invested with the Divine Grace necessary to live
monastically, he promises obedience to his spiritual Father, not on the
condition that the spiritual Father must be clairvoyant, but unconditionally. A
monks obedience is founded on the explicit belief that Christ speaks
directly to him through his spiritual Father, despite any human foibles
present in his guide. The link of obedience, from human to human, is energized
by Divine Grace; it becomes a conduit through which spiritual wisdom and
enlightenment are passed. Thus, when Mr. Moss suggests that, Perhaps what is
meant is that God bestows the grace of eldership on a man in response to the
eager faith of his disciple, he renders Father Akakios' formula unilateral,
which it is not meant to be. Not only does God bestow Grace where it is
warranted—that is, where an eager disciple seeks a true Elder—, but the eager
faith of a disciple is also a response to the Grace of Eldership bestowed by God
in his very relationship to his spiritual Father. And the prophecy and
clairvoyance of Eldership—limited not to the obviously supernatural, but
encompassing, as well, dedicated leadership, the administration of the
Mysteries, and good monastic demeanor—also rest in and derive from this
relationship. In the end, a good Abbot or spiritual guide who offers moral
guidance, remains faithful to the traditions of monasticism, preaches Orthodoxy
in fidelity to the Fathers, practices love, chastises those who go astray,
inspires obedience in those placed in his care, and remains firm in his
commitment, is a holy Elder. And Eldership is ultimately measured in this way,
not by worldly notions of prophecy and clairvoyance. There are but two forms of
Eldership: genuine and false, and the dividing line between them is not marked
by glitter and the obviously miraculous, but by sobriety and a commitment to the
wholeness and continuity of Orthodox Tradition.
Risking redundancy, let us
strongly emphasize, one more time, something that is essential to understand in
this portrayal of Eldership and obedience: Divine Grace is operative whether or
not an Elder is manifestly clairvoyant. In, fact, it so happens that
Elders, themselves, are at times unaware that Grace is acting through them. Let
us call to mind, for example, the famous story of Saint Proklos, who, wanting to
introduce a certain nobleman to Saint John Chrysostomos, was unable to do so,
since each time that he approached his Elder's quarters and peered in, he saw an
old man leaning over him and whispering in his ear, as the Saint intently
composed what became his celebrated commentaries on the Epistles of Saint Paul.
This occurred for three nights in succession. The venerable old man, it turned
out, was Saint Paul himself, under whose guidance the Divine Chrysostomos,
unaware of the fact, was ostensibly recording his own thoughts. If the Grace of
Eldership is so subtle and so elusive that even those under its influence are
unaware of its energy within them, who can characterize it as a personal
attribute? And if he who enjoys that Grace does not always see it, how careful
one must be in unequivocally declaring that there are no holy Elders in this or
that place. Eldership is a function, a power that operates in context and in
specific response to a given task, and is actuated by the Will of God and
defined spiritual relationships and duties. Its presence or absence is not an
issue to be discussed lightly and in sweeping terms.
Ultimately, in failing to
understand that the Grace of Eldership is not personal, but transpersonal—for
God is no respecter of persons—, Mr. Moss makes the pithy but irrelevant
comment that, "A disciple can no more make an elder than a layman can ordain a
priest." We might note, as Saint Theodore the Studite observes, that no
human ordains a Priest per se: Ordination is from God. The Bishop
exercises the power of his office through the Grace of God. And so, it is not
the disciple who makes the Elder, as Father Akakios clearly states, but the
action of the Holy Spirit, which operates through a disciples obedience and
the sacred relationship between a disciple and his Elder. And just as the
faults and failures of a Bishop do not limit the actions of God performed
through him, so the faults and deficiencies of an Elder in no way impede the
Grace of God as it acts through his relationship to a spiritual disciple. As
Saint Herman of Alaska says: "Our sins do not in the least hinder our
Christianity." A more legitimate concern in spiritual guidance, we might
observe, is the indispensability of right belief—that is, Orthodoxy—in the
action of Grace. Where right belief exists, human shortcomings become
incidental. Thus it is Orthodoxy, and not the gift of clairvoyance, which
serves as a fundamental characteristic of true Eldership. Here again, prophecy
and clairvoyance are understood as expansive concepts, critically dependent upon
and intimately linked to—more than anything else—correct belief. To a faithful
disciple of an Elder who is truly Orthodox, even if that Elder is not notably
virtuous, the experience of Grace, that intangible grasping of the Divine
dimension which undergirds created existence, is always accessible.
Mr. Moss's potentially
misleading comments about Eldership are reinforced, in part, by his misuse of
Patristic warnings about inexperienced or ill-intentioned Elders, warnings
which, while important (and especially in our days), address the issue, not of
true Eldership, but, quite obviously, of false Eldership and the abuse of
obedience. All of his extensive quotations from Bishop Ignaty (Brianchaninov),
from Saint John of the Ladder, and from Saint Symeon the New Theologian, in
fact, invariably make, in each case, nothing more than a point about the dangers
of false Eldership. The inferred repudiation of Eldership, on account of
instances of its abuse, can lead an incautious reader to conclusions which Mr.
Moss certainly does not advocate, as evidenced by his admission that the
scarcity of true Elders in our own times does not mean that they do not exist at
all. Scarcity and abuse are not adequate arguments against the need for
spiritual guidance; moreover, were Mr. Moss to put such warnings in context, he
would be forced to admit that the same Fathers whom he so liberally quotes about
the perils of false Eldership also point out a corresponding danger, equal to
that of following false Elders: following one's own will and one's own judgment.
With regard to Mr. Moss's
reference to Bishop Ignaty's famous claim that ancient monastic obedience to
holy Elders does not exist in our age, we might observe—as did Father Akakios in
response to Father Alexey's assertion that there are no true Elders in
America—that this holy man, recently Glorified by the Moscow Patriarchate, held
an opinion in some ways at odds with the consensus of other spiritual Fathers,
if we are to understand his words literally. Indeed, we should also note, one
can persuasively argue, on the basis of a thorough consideration of his
writings, that Bishop Ignaty warns us not against the pursuit of monastic
obedience, but against failing to heed the limited ability of spiritual
aspirants, in our day, to respond to that pursuit. Whatever the case, we do not
wish to call into question his sanctity or the absolutely central part that many
of his writings should play in the training and formation of contemporary
monastics. We wish simply to point out that this one area of thought in Saint
Ignaty's writings must be studied with circumspection and caution and weighed
against his constant admonitions against self-direction and dependence on one's
own thoughts.
In addition to misgivings about
the possibility of obedience as we read of it in the early monastics, it is well
known that Bishop Ignaty also believed that true Eldership had almost
disappeared in his day. Mr. Moss applies these reservations to modern times.
Bishop Ignaty drew his conclusions, however, from personal experiences with
contemporary directors suffering from blindness and self-delusion. This was
for him a great occasion for temptation. Therefore, he dedicates no small
portion of his commentaries on monasticism to the phenomenon of false Eldership.
But what he presumed to be a scarcity of Elders at the time did not lead him
away from his understanding that one must follow assiduously the directions of
the Church Fathers, those Elders bound in leather, whose writings tell us
nothing, again, about self-reliance or spiritual independence, but speak
constantly of submission and obedience to the Church, its precepts, and its
worthy leaders. Indeed, Bishop Ignaty admits that, while we do not feast at the
banquet table of monasticism today, we are still left with the crumbs that fall
from the spiritual table of the Fathers, and he does not deny the efficacy of
such advice and instruction as can be borrowed from contemporary Fathers and
brethren. One must never understate this foundational element in the writings
of Saint Ignaty, exploiting and concentrating upon those things among his
writings that can be too easily misused to justify spiritual and ecclesiastical
anarchy.
Saint John of the Ladder, whose
warnings against false Elders, or inadequate guides, Mr. Moss also cites, was
not, on account of his condemnation of the abuses of Eldership, an advocate of
spiritual independence. Let us quote from his own words: "Without a guide, it is
easy to wander from the way, however prudent one may be; and so, he who walks on
the monastic path under his own direction soon perishes, even though he may have
all the wisdom of the world." Had Mr. Moss continued reading the passage which
he quotes from Klimakos about inadequate spiritual guides, he would have found
himself arguing against the idea that our spiritual guides must be constantly
scrutinized and, in most cases today, abandoned; for, after his admonition that
a monastic aspirant verify the credentials of his guide-to-be—among which,
again, he does not necessarily include clairvoyance and prophecy in their more
dazzling forms—, Saint John says that, once we have entered the arena of piety
and obedience, we must no longer judge our good manager in any way at all, even
though we may perhaps see in him some slight failings, since he is only human.
The issue, here, is not one of merely avoiding false Eldership, but more
importantly of strengthening the disciples faith in his undoubtedly imperfect
human Elder. The weak link in the mystery of Eldership, for Saint John, is not
the poor Elder, but the disciples imperfect faith. Moreover, it is to Saint
John whom we turn for an understanding of the spiritual hierarchy of the Church:
Angels are a light for monks and the monastic life is a light for all men.
Here we see basic support for the rule that we are not all spiritual equals, but
depend on others for spiritual light, and see that, despite the caution that
many wise Fathers rightly prescribe with regard to Eldership gone awry, such
caution does not justify spiritual self-reliance and sweeping generalizations
about the ascendancy of personal judgment over spiritual obedience to one's
superiors—whether among monastics or laymen.
Saint Symeon, whom Mr. Moss also
quotes, warns us that we should not submit ourselves to an inexperienced or
passionate master. This admonition does not, however, mean that, despite the
decline in spiritual life that Saint Symeon saw even in his own age, he rejected
the necessity of spiritual guidance: "But to deny that at this present time
there are some who love God, and to deny that they have been granted the Holy
Spirit and Baptism by Him as sons of God, to deny that they have become gods by
knowledge and experience and contemplation—that wholly subverts the Incarnation
of our God and Savior Jesus Christ! It clearly denies the renewal of the image
that had been corrupted and put to death, and its return to incorruption and
immortality." Lest anyone object that the Saint's words applied only to his own
era, let us hear a contemporary monastic writer, Hieromonk Theodosius, writing
in 1911 in an appendix to a letter by Elder Cleopas of Vvedensk: "And so, my
dear brother, do not despair. Be zealous, be zealous for God; do not say that it
is impossible to be saved, that there are no holy Fathers and that the time is
not the same. There are Fathers, and the time is good for working out one's
salvation. And those who say otherwise, as witnesses Saint Symeon the New
Theologian, are raising blasphemy against God, which will not be forgiven."
Quite obviously, if we read with care the words of Saint Symeon and heed with
intelligence the comments of Father Theodosius, it is impossible for one to
believe fully in the Incarnation of Christ and argue that, however scarce,
spiritual leadership does not exist at all times in the Christian Church, a
point, once more, that Father Akakios made abundantly clear in his response to
Father Alexey and a point which Mr. Moss unfortunately obfuscates in his
references to false Eldership and the limitations of modern monks in fulfilling
the ancient standards of obedience.
In concluding his comments on
Eldership, Mr. Moss applies what he gleans from the aforementioned Patristic
sources to modern spiritual life. He observes: "Many converts are tempted to
submit to a false elder for another reason—that he led them to Orthodoxy and may
well be the only Orthodox leader in the vicinity. Then a mixture of
gratitude and the fear of becoming completely isolated may lead the convert to
conclude that Divine Providence must have led him to submit his whole
life to this man for the salvation of his soul. The false elder, who is often a
cunning psychologist, can exploit this situation and gain complete control over
his disciples, adding, in the case of disobedience, fearsome sanctions, very
strict penances, curses and even anathematization and expulsion (supposedly)
from the Orthodox Church." Such thoughts, unfortunately, foster a lack of
confidence in the ability of Providence to direct and guide the course of a
man's life towards salvation. Moreover, the greatest Fathers of the Church were
experienced psychologists, adding to their understanding of human behavior the
wisdom of spiritual insight. And not a few Fathers visited sanctions and strict
penances, if not anathemas, on their erring spiritual wards—not, of course, with
the aim of punishing them, but for the purpose of bringing them to repentance
and asking of them sure signs of their having turned from disobedience and error
to a correction of their sinful ways. Such things are indispensable to the
spiritual life.
It is not Mr. Moss alone who so
fiercely condemns Eldership in our contemporary Church life. There are many
non-monastics today who, having wrongly placed themselves under the
quasi-monastic guidance of a false Elder and having been sadly wounded and hurt
by this experience, are strongly motivated to lash out at Eldership itself and
at all of those things, such as penances, curses, and other ecclesiastical
sanctions, that were inappropriately used against them. They become obsessed, at
times, with discrediting anything that smacks of Eldership or submission to
Church's authority—and this not only innocently, but at times because they lack
the humility to face their past errors and to seek out a more responsible
spiritual guide in a more salutary context. There are also many monks who,
either having been abused by false Elders or, on the other hand, having failed
to obey a true Elder and to live an exemplar monastic life, fall to the error of
rejecting what they knew improperly or that to which they could not, in its
proper manifestation, adequately respond.
In the case of such laymen, they
are too often, ironically enough, the victims of what it is that they only come
to eschew after the fact: that is, of embracing monastic obedience without the
one thing that is absolutely indispensable: the Grace of the monastic commitment
itself. In the case of monks who have fallen to warfare against true
monasticism, the issue is a complex one that leads not a few such aspirants to
the disaster of self-reliance and the judgmentalism that goes with it. They
either forget or choose to ignore, for their own self-serving reasons, the fact
that Christianity involves tremendous risk, for which reason our Lord Himself
tells us that many who strive to enter through the strait gate will fail.
While Mr. Moss does not dismiss spiritual obedience or monastic submission as
such, he sets forth arguments that can lead not only to a misunderstanding of
spiritual guidance, but to a serious departure from an Orthodox understanding of
the Church and to a falsely comfortable, ostensibly safe reliance on one's self
that courts disaster.
Indeed, in developing his
dangerous idea that false Eldership justifies some sort of self-reliance and
spiritual independence, Mr. Moss cites an anecdote translated from the sayings
of the desert Fathers and attributed to Abba Poimen, in which this great
monastic Saint supposedly advises a monk, who complains that he cannot stay with
his Elder without losing his soul, that he should leave his Elder. The
translation which Mr. Moss uses (by Benedicta Ward) is misleading. In fact,
Saint Poimen only reluctantly advises the monk in question, after two visits,
that it is better, more correctly, to heal himself by leaving his Elder than
to remain where he is. The Saint does not, as the translation in question
suggests, tell the monk that he is saving himself by abandoning his Elder. He
is told that he cannot find salvation in such a circumstance. The reason for
this, however, is not the Elder himself, but the disciple's lack of faith and
obedience, which impedes that natural relationship, between Elder and disciple,
through which God operates.
Bishop Ignaty, commenting on
this anecdote, concludes (though without evidence from the text) that the Elder
to whom Abba Poimen refers must have broken the moral tradition of the Church,
and thus rightly argues that his disciple would have imperiled his soul by
remaining with him. It should be firstly noted that, if Bishop Ignaty is correct
in his conclusion, we are dealing with an extraordinary circumstance here. As
much as lay people would like to think that such is not the case, immorality
between spiritual Fathers and their spiritual children is extremely rare. For
every monastic community assailed by the demon of immorality, there are by far
many more monasteries and convents, even in our days and even in America,
where people follow lives of absolute purity. Such rare instances, as well as
cases of open heresy, do indeed justify, if not demand, the separation of a
disciple from his Elder. But they must not be taken as justifications for the
rejection of Eldership as such or for a retreat into independent judgment.
In commenting on this anecdote,
Graham Gould, in his pivotal book, The Desert Fathers on Monastic Community,
quite succinctly makes this same point: "Poemen's attitude is...complex.
Outwardly he remains neutral, but in fact realizes that ultimately the brother
will have to leave. Only when the brother had come to the end of his endurance
does Poemen affirm his decision and assure him that he has acted for the best."
In some ways this saying is an exception to almost all of the rules which the
Desert Fathers made for the behaviour of a disciple. The same hesitancy that
Gould sees in Abba Poimen to advise a disciple to leave his Elder, prompted by
the Saint's regard for the sacred nature of spiritual relationships, we see
expressed in the words of Elder Anatoly, whom we quoted above, to another nun
under his direction, who had separated from her spiritual Mother: "From your
last letter I see that you have decided to break off your relationship with the
Matushkas, your Eldresses, but you did not explain the reason. Was this a whim
or something valid? Whatever the case, I will not hasten to praise you for this.
And I will not hesitate to scold you the moment I find out the reasons you have
preferred a self-directed life to the guidance of
eldership" [emphasis added].
(Parenthetically, we might add
that the anecdote about Abba Poimen is, in fact, exceptional not only in its
advice, but with regard to the manuscript tradition. It is not contained in the
standard collection of the Apophthegmata Patrum in the Patrologia
Graeca or in the Evergetinos, but is taken from sources of uncertain
provenance.)
Let us note, secondly, that Abba
Poimen, despite the very selective choice by Mr. Moss of an exceptional anecdote
about his spiritual precepts, does not in theory or in principle
advocate spiritual self-reliance and a self-willed departure from one's
spiritual guide. Let his own words speak for themselves: "Do not be misled into
thinking that you are able to govern yourself in things spiritual....Submit
yourself to an experienced elder and let him guide you in all things." It is of
great significance, in fact, that it was only with the Saint's blessing that the
monk in question finally sundered the spiritual relationship between himself and
his Elder. There is to be found in this anecdote no justification for the
rejection of Eldership on the grounds that one bad apple spoils the whole tree.
The continued reliance of a spiritual aspirant on good guidance, following the
collapse of his relationship with a bad or errant Elder, furthermore, is
perfectly consistent with canonical tradition. For example, in the questions
appended to the Canons of Saint Nicephoros, Patriarch of Constantinople, we read
that a monk may sever his ties to a spiritual Father only when he has the
blessing of his Bishop (Question VII). Self-dependence is not a spiritual
alternative to proper Eldership, even when the latter has gone bad or is
difficult to find.
In contrast to the
unrepresentative anecdote that Mr. Moss draws from the counsels of Abba Poimen,
one can cite more numerous instances from the Evergetinos in which
personally corrupt Elders are, through the obedience of their disciples,
ultimately led to salvation. These anecdotes should not serve as prescriptive
texts, but they are didactic and serve to place both true Eldership and its
abuse in better perspective. We will cite two examples. The first concerns a
disciple who submitted himself to an Elder given to the vice of drunkenness.
This Elder exploited the ready and uncomplaining obedience of his disciple, in
order to indulge his drinking habit even more. After having endured much abuse
from this Elder, the disciple was one day beset by the temptation that it was
spiritually unprofitable for him to remain with such a drunkard. But with true
monastic fortitude, he immediately cut off this thought, and for this act was
vouchsafed an Angelic vision, revealing his impending demise. When the disciple
relayed this vision to his Elder, the cynical Elder initially mocked him;
however, his attitude was speedily transformed into one of wonderment when the
words of his disciple came to pass and he died. Painfully aware of his own
passions in the light of his disciples radiant virtues, the Elder from that
moment on resolved to abandon his former drinking habit and thus succeeded,
through the obedience of his disciple, in saving his soul.
The second example is similar.
Outside Alexandria, there lived an irascible and fussy hermit whom no one could
stand. A certain pious young man made a pact with God that he would live with
this hermit, patiently enduring his misanthropic character, in return for Divine
forgiveness of sins. After six years, seeing that the young man faithfully
upheld his end of the bargain by courageously accepting every abuse visited upon
him by his callous Elder, God deigned to reveal to His patient disciple that
half of his sins had been forgiven. Thenceforth, the disciple redoubled his
efforts to endure, counting as a loss every day in which he failed to receive
some sort of maltreatment or privation from his Elder. After another six years,
the disciple reposed, with the remaining balance of his sins having been
forgiven. To a certain pious and experienced monk it was revealed that, on
account of his patience, the disciple had been granted a Martyr's crown and was
deemed worthy of bold intercession before the throne of God. And, indeed,
through the very prayers of his own obedient disciple, the stone-hearted Elder
repented of his abusive and selfish behavior, thereby attaining salvation.
We are not arguing, here, that
one should endure immorality or heresy in a spiritual guide. We are not arguing,
either, that the kind of obedience that we see in these two stories—nearly
unattainable and certainly rare, anyway—should be lightly undertaken in our age.
Nor do we believe that such instances of monastic obedience should be applied to
the life of lay people. What we are pointing out, in response to Mr. Moss's
unbalanced and misleading presentation of spiritual Eldership, is that obedience
and spiritual relationships are Grace-bearing, and especially and
specifically so in the monastic estate, and that the action of God in
sanctifying and saving the Christian soul is not dependent on mere personal
virtue or on the charismatic qualities of an Elder. Eldership is a mystery of
the Church, and as such it provides a channel through which Divine Grace can
act, effectively operating, not only through one's personal gifts, but often
in spite of one's faults.
Taking into account all that we
have said about the nature of obedience and Eldership in the monastic life, as
well as our admission that he and Father Alexey are right to express caution
with regard to the abuse of these things in the lives of laymen, the real danger
set forth in Mr. Moss's rejoinder to Father Akakios' critique is his inference
that Eldership gone astray justifies self-reliance: "[T]hat most quintessential
attribute of man made in the image of God [is] independent judgment, and the
ability to turn to God directly for enlightenment and help." To see the danger
of this shocking deviation from the teachings of the Church Fathers, we need
only quote Abba Dorotheos of Gaza: "I know of no fall that happens to a monk
that does not come from trusting his own judgment. Some say, A man falls
because of this, or because of that, but I say, and I repeat, I do not know of
any fall happening to anyone except from this cause. Do you know someone who has
fallen? Be sure that he directed himself. Nothing is more grievous than to be
one's own director, nothing is more pernicious." That this admonition applies to
laymen, too, is clear in the words of Saint Gregory Palamas: "Any man who seeks
God without a spiritual guide, resting on his own thought, is straightway bound
for a fall."
To bolster his argument, Mr.
Moss cites two Russian Catacomb Saints, Bishop Damascene of Glukhov and
Metropolitan Joseph of Petrograd. Saint Damascene he quotes as follows: "Perhaps
the time has come when the Lord does not wish that the Church should stand as an
intermediary between Himself and the believers." Lamentably, this quotation can
easily be misinterpreted to mean, not only that Elders have disappeared, but
that the Church itself has disappeared. The Saint meant, of course, no such
thing. He was referring specifically to his own national Church, the liquidation
of which was taking place before his very eyes at the hands of Bolshevik toadies
masquerading as Orthodox Christians. That he was not an advocate of
self-reliance is evident in a careful consideration of his life and writings.
Thus it is that, in another passage, which helped to lay the groundwork for the
Catacomb Church, Bishop Damascene writes: "[C]reate first a small nucleus of a
few people who are striving towards Christ, who are ready to begin the
realization of the evangelical ideal in their lives. Unite yourselves for
grace-given guidance around one of the worthy pastors, and let everyone
separately and all together prepare themselves for yet greater service to
Christ.... Just a few people united in such a life already make up a small
Church, the Body of Christ, in which the Spirit and the Love of Christ dwell....
If we do not become members of the Body of Christ, the temple of His Life-giving
Spirit, then this Spirit will depart from the world, and the frightful
convulsions of the dying world organism will be the natural result of this"
[emphasis added].
Saint Joseph of Petrograd Mr.
Moss cites as having said that, in the last times, there may be even among the
elect those who betray the Church. This statement is, of course, consistent with
Scripture, too. However, it is not an invitation to laymen to declare that the
end of time is here. Nor is it an invitation to declare oneself the measure of
all things. In the first place, excessive apocalypticism can be very dangerous.
While we are undoubtedly in troubled times and, as a number of contemporary
Elders have said, entering the age of Antichrist, we must take care to preserve
the Church, the pillar and ground of truth, with special zeal. This may mean
that we will have to be cautious in all things spiritual, but it does mean that
we can unilaterally fall to the sin of self-reliance and the folly of rejecting
all spiritual guidance, simply because some (or even many) of the Church's elect
have fallen to false belief. Let us also remember that Catacomb Bishops like
Hieromartyrs Damascene and Joseph found themselves in unparalleled circumstances
of great intensity, which led them to the seemingly inescapable conclusion that
the end of the world had arrived in their very days. In such desperation, they
must have felt abandoned and isolated, and their statements must be clearly read
in such a context. They must not be used to support an excessively apocalyptic
spirit or an abandonment of the Church and its teaching ministry.
Mr. Moss ends his rejoinder to
Father Akakios' critique of Father Alexey's article with these words: "Thus we
may be moving into the last period of the Church's history..., when the
individual believer has to seek the answers to his spiritual problems from God
and God's word alone." Here, he has moved beyond his perhaps wise caution with
regard to false Eldership to what borders on a Protestant justification of
self-reliance. We must remember, of course, that the Word of God, properly
speaking, is not the Bible, as a naive reader might imagine, but
Christ Himself Whose Body is the Church. While Holy Scripture reflects
and perfectly describes the Glory of God, it does not contain the
experience of that ineffable Glory. Father John Romanides states this
overlooked fact succinctly: "Neither the Bible nor the writings of the Fathers
are revelation or the word of God. They are about revelation and about the word
of God. Revelation is the appearance of God to the prophets, apostles, and
Saints. The Bible and the writings of the Fathers are about these appearances,
but not the appearances themselves. This is why it is the prophet, apostle, and
saint who sees God, and not those who simply read about their experiences of
glorification. It is obvious that neither a book about glorification nor one who
reads such a book can ever replace the prophet, apostle, or saint who has the
experience of glorification." In short, whatever the dangers, the experience of
glorification, the tasting of Divine Grace—or theosis, an Orthodox
synonym for salvation—, comes to us in the reality of the Church, Elders, and
spiritual guidance. Even when the institutional garb of the Church is rent
asunder by the perverse forces of Antichrist, or Eldership becomes corrupt, the
Church Herself, as the very Body of Christ, cannot and will never be defiled.
And if Elders seem to have disappeared or to have become corrupt, the phenomenon
of dependence on spiritual guidance, if not Elders themselves, cannot and will
never disappear. We cannot—indeed, we must not—guide ourselves, whatever the
risk.
From A Supplement to Orthodox Tradition, Vol. XIV, No. 1 (1997)
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