Love, Marriage and Family in Eastern Orthodox Perspective

Love, Marriage and Family in
Eastern Orthodox Perspective

Gorgias Eastern Christian Studies
44
Series Editors
George Anton Kiraz
István Perczel
Lorenzo Perrone
Samuel Rubenson
Gorgias Eastern Christian Studies brings to the scholarly world the

underrepresented field of Eastern Christianity. This series consists
of monographs, edited collections, texts and translations of the
documents of Eastern Christianity, as well as studies of topics
relevant to the world of historic Orthodoxy and early Christianity.
Love, Marriage and Family in
Eastern Orthodox Perspective
Edited by
Theodore Grey Dedon

Sergey Trostyanskiy
9
34 2016
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Names: Dedon, Theodore, editor. | Trostyanskiy,

Sergey, editor.
Title: Love, marriage, and family in Eastern
Orthodox perspective / edited by
Theodore Dedon, edited by Sergey
Trostyanskiy.
Description: Piscataway : Gorgias Press, 2016.
| Series: Gorgias Eastern
Christian studies, ISSN 1539-1507 ; 44 |
Includes bibliographical
references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016017350 | ISBN
9781463205966
Subjects: LCSH: Marriage--Religious
aspects--Orthodox Eastern Church.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Table of Contents ..................................................................................... v

Acknowledgments ................................................................................... ix
Preface ....................................................................................................... xi
SERGEY TROSTYANSKIY AND THEODORE DEDON
Foreword: The Mystery of Marriage: An Orthodox
Reflection ........................................................................................ xv
J.A. MCGUCKIN
The Sacrament of Love: Paul Evdokimov’s Vision of Marriage,
Love and Vocation .......................................................................... 1
MICHAEL PLEKON
Out of Dreams and Angels: Love, Marriage, and Family in the
New Testament .............................................................................. 15
JEFFREY B. PETTIS
The Sacrament of Marriage and Union with God ............................ 31
BRUCE BECK
Marriage And Family: Traditional Values – Modern Realities ....... 45
THEODOR DAMIAN
Sexual Healing: Desire and Pleasure in the Thought of Sts.
Augustine of Hippo and Gregory of Nyssa .............................. 61
DAVID J. DUNN
Uncovering Desire: Explorations in Eros, Aggression and the
Question of Theosis in Marriage ................................................ 79
PIA CHAUDHARI
Contextuality and Normality: Orthodox Visions of Human
Sexuality and Marriage .................................................................. 91
DREW MAXWELL
Marriage and the Eucharist: From Unity to Schizophrenia – the
Positive Theology of Marriage and its Distortion From an
Eastern Orthodox Point of View .............................................105
PHILIP ZYMARIS
v
vi LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
Imaging the True Family in St. Gregory Nazianzen’s

Oration 14.....................................................................................127
KATE MCCRAY
Chrysostom’s Pedagogy of Christian Fatherhood: Reorienting
the Christian Family in a Non-Christian Society ....................135
ALEXANDER BLAZE MILLER
What Makes a Society? An Orthodox Perspective on
Asceticism, Marriage, the Family, and Society ........................155
DYLAN PAHMAN
Anna Komnene’s Alexiad: Legacy from the Good Daughter
(Kale Thugater)................................................................................169
V.K. MCCARTY
‘Set Ye In Order Charity In Me’: Origen’s Writings on The
Song of Songs ..............................................................................185
CLIO PAVLANTOS
Philanthropia as God’s Loving-Kindness: Origen of Alexandria
and His Theology of Love .........................................................201
THEODORE GREY DEDON
The Reflexivity of Love in Fakhruddin ‘Iraqi’s Divine Flashes and
St. Symeon the New Theologian’s Hymns of Divine Eros........223
ZACHARY UGOLNIK
‘The Time Has Come: The Why and the How of Bringing
Change to the Postpartum Rites of the Orthodox
Church’ ..........................................................................................245
CARRIE FREDERICK FROST
Psalms 112:5–9 and Alternative Family Arrangements ..................253
WILLIAM EPHREM GALL
Turning Toward as a Pastoral Theology of Marriage .....................257
PHILIP MAMALAKIS
Caregiving as an Expression of Familial Love .................................273
ANNMARIE GIDUS-MECERA
Toward a Better Understanding of the Clergy Couple ...................287
KERRY PAPPAS
‘The Beginning of Wisdom is to Fear the Lord, And She was
Joined with the Faithful in the Womb.’ WSir 1:12 The
Theology of Children, An Insight from the Old and the
New Testaments ..........................................................................295
VICKI PETRAKIS
TABLE OF CONTENTS vii
A Life of Ideal Beauty: St. Gregory of Nyssa and the Life of

Macrina ...........................................................................................303
ANTONIA ATANASSOVA
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The papers presented in this volume were originally delivered at the

Fifth Annual Conference of the Sophia Institute, “Love, Marriage
and Family in Eastern Orthodox perspective” held at Union Theo-
logical Seminary, New York on December 7th, 2012.
The Sophia Institute provided essential support for the prep-
aration of this volume. We would like especially to thank the Presi-
dent of the Institute, the Very Rev’d. Dr. John Anthony
McGuckin, the Nielsen Professor of Early Christian History at Un-
ion Theological Seminary and Professor of Byzantine Christian
Studies at Columbia University, for his assistance with this volume.
We would like to thank also our former colleague at Union Theo-
logical Seminary, the retired Head of Reference and Research at the
Burke Library, Seth Kasten for his help in navigating the immense
resources available through Columbia University’s network.
Special thanks go to Dr. Melonie Schmierer-Lee and Dr. Mat-
thew Steinfeld, Acquisitions Editors at Gorgias Press, who facilitat-
ed the process of preparing this volume so as to bring it to comple-
tion.
We thank Marian (Mim) Warden, former Union Seminary
student, current member of the Union Board of Directors, and
long-time friend, for her encouragement and material support.
ix
PREFACE
When we speak of love in modern language a certain conceptual

content is expressed. Though we use one word there are various
significations (and so-called ‘formulas of essence’) that leak into it.
Thus, any time we speak of love a certain degree of equivocation is
assumed by default. Hence, the meaning of love ( that is, its nature,
modes, and so on) can vary and is determined by the broader se-
mantic context (whether sexual, romantic, or devotional; love ‘for
this or for that’ – music or people or ideas, and so forth). Classical
Greek, however, was clearly more capable of setting up a subtle
discourse on the subject with a lesser degree of equivocation. The
various terms to express love as designed by the ancients, were
much more diverse and nuanced. Agape, eros, storge, and philia are
some examples that can be mentioned in the brief scope of this
preface.
The notion of love played a major role in antique culture. We
can find various subtle accounts of love in the writings of antique
philosophers and rhetoricians. Many treatises of Plato, Aristotle,
and other sophists deal with the subject and elucidate its signifi-
cance for the ancient city-state. A few things need to be mentioned
in this context.
Firstly, when we discourse about it, we need to know what
love is. Secondly, when we theologize about it, we need to find out
how it affects our Christian ethos. Thus, what is love? Is it some-
thing that comes about at the moment of our unqualified ‘coming-
to-be’? Are we lovers and loved ones from birth so to say? It may
be useful to see what the ancients had to say on the subject. Here,
the first thing that comes to mind is Plato’s dialogues in which the
subject of love is given the chief priority. What does he have to
say? We find the following affirmation in one of his earliest dia-
logues:
xi
xii LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
Babies, for example, who are too young to love philounta) but
not too young to hate, when they are disciplined by their
mother or father, are at that moment, even though they hate
their parents then, their very dearest friends [Lysis 212e8–
213a2].
Here Plato presents love (in the mode of philia) as virtue (i.e. civic
excellence) which is perhaps not immediately apparent as innate in
human existence (though inherent in humanity by nature) but has
to be taught to turn an infant animal to a wholly formed human
being who ‘partakes’ of virtues. We can think of such love as being
potentiality present but not yet actualized. Hence, a certain devel-
opmental aspect is accentuated in such an understanding of love.
Love is thus a thing (perhaps a natural disposition) to be devel-
oped. Some Christians take this position as operative for Christian
life even in contemporary times, on account of its endorsement by
some major Christian authorities, notably St. Augustine. Thus, in
the first book of Confessions 1 Augustine gives us a lively description
of ‘evil babies’ corrupted by sin and vividly described their lust for
self-affirmation (thereby perfectly replicating Plato’s argument
which had clearly influenced him).
On the other hand love was also thought of as a gift of God.
We can find such affirmations again in Plato’s Lysis:
I think we’d better go back to where we turned off, and look
for guidance to the poets, the ancestral voices of human wis-
dom. What they say about who friends are is by no means triv-
ial: that God himself makes people friends [lovers], by drawing
them together [213e4–214a2].
Here again philia is discussed, a form of love associated with mutual
affection and loyalty by friends and family members. Yet, a devel-
opmental aspect of such a form of love is de-emphasized in the
new context; instead, the notion of gift or divine intervention (or
providential care) is accentuated. This aspect is indeed extended
throughout all modes of love. Moreover, a henotic or unitive aspect
of love is also highlighted in this section. And the theme of two
1 St. Augustine, Confessions. I, 7.

PREFACE xiii
‘coming-to-be-one’ through the mutual bond of love (in its various

modes) has indeed been formative for Christian discourse since its
inception. Perhaps these two conceptions of love (namely, virtue
and divine intervention) are not contradictory and can peacefully
coexist within the same discourse. They seem to sit happily togeth-
er in the Lysis.
Love is also understood as aiming at beauty as its final end
(which is indeed intertwined with truth and goodness). The teleol-
ogy of love in its erotic mode is just another major theme that runs
across cultures, taking its starting point in Homer, soaring aloft in
Plato’s magnificent Symposium and finding its climactic moment in
late Byzantine discourses such as those of St. Symeon the New
Theologian. 2 One particular aspect of erotic love is to be men-
tioned in this context, namely, the epistemic significance; here love
brings about the event of thea, that is allows one to ‘see’ God. 3 Yet,
the notion of seeing here is quite peculiar; such ‘seeing’ does not
operate though the faculty of imagination; this imageless seeing is
also utterly devoid of any propositional aspect; hence, it is a purely
imageless non-propositional grasp of the deity. As such it plays an
absolutely crucial role in later Christian tradition, especially in its
Byzantine hesychastic form.
Perhaps the Greek concept of storge is just another significant
mode of love that creates an everlasting bond of mutual solidarity
and respect between such ‘lovers’. But this is perhaps the least
formative aspect as far as our present study is concerned. Chris-
tians pay little attention to it. By contrast, the most significant mo-
dality and semantic of love, one that constitutes the focal point of
Christian faith is agape. We learn from St. John the Divine that o
theos agape estin. 4 Thus, the very being of God is love. Agape is the
central and the most aporetic element of Jesus’ teaching which re-
volves around the notion of God’s self-emptying (kenosis) for our
benefit. This same element strikes us in the Sermon on the Mount
where Jesus teaches the faithful to love (agapate) their enemies and
2 Such as the latter’s Hymns of Divine Eros.

3 See further: Jeffrey B. Pettis, ed. Seeing the God: Ways of Envisioning
the Divine in Ancient Mediterranean Religion. Gorgias Press. NJ. 2013.
4 1st Letter of John 4.8 & 4.16.
xiv LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
pray for those persecuting them. 5 This same element lays down the
foundation of the cosmic redemptive process that is meant to bring
the whole creation back to the very source of its being (and hence,
assumes a dominant role in soteriology).
What are the implications of such a radical conception of love
for our Christian ethos? Does not love transform the very nature of
human relationship? Does not it turn contractual marriage into the
union between husband and wife in God? Does not it assign a
deeply sacramental significance to marriage? Does it not bring
about a metamorphosis in our ordinary life in which not only the
members of the community of faith, but also these outside it, de-
serve to be ennobled as the loved ones? Christianity tends to the
affirmative on all these questions. This present book sets out to
making this complex subject both discernible and formative for the
ethos of our faith. The study includes work by world-renowned Or-
thodox scholars along with promising young Christian theologians,
historians and litterateurs of the next generation, and systematically
investigates a subject that has been excessively neglected in Ortho-
dox literature. This family of Sophia scholars who are also ‘friends
in Christ’ offer this volume as a spiritual gift to Christian communi-
ties across the world. We, the editors, deeply appreciate their ef-
forts and are proud to facilitate their appearance for the wider
academy.
Sergey Trostyanskiy
Theodore Dedon
ἐντολὴν καινὴν δίδωμι ὑμῖν, ἵνα ἀγαπᾶτε ἀλλήλους, καθὼς

ἠγάπησα ὑμᾶς ἵνα καὶ ὑμεῖς ἀγαπᾶτε ἀλλήλους. ἐν τούτῳ
γνώσονται πάντες ὅτι ἐμοὶ μαθηταί ἐστε, ἐὰν ἀγάπην ἔχητε ἐν
John 13:34–35
ἀλλήλοις
5 Mt. 5.44.
FOREWORD:
THE MYSTERY OF MARRIAGE:
AN ORTHODOX REFLECTION
J.A. MCGUCKIN
The Lord revealed the essence of his special and unusual under-
standing of marriage on several occasions during his earthly minis-
try. This present reflection intends to take its lead from an exegesis
of key scriptural passages and continue into a review of central Or-
thodox Church attitudes and practice in relation to matrimony. 1
Jesus was a radical thinker on so many levels. His remarks in the
New Testament on marriage, mainly tangential in character (analo-
gies, images, fragments), equally demonstrate that radicality. He
changed the theological significance of marriage considerably from
that of the Old Testament ‘contract’ which remains the inspiration
(via Roman legislative philosophy) of civil law to this day, into
something greater than that: an entrance into a spiritual profundity
1 There is now a growing literature on the Orthodox understanding

of marriage: see, for example, J. Chryssavgis. Love, Sexuality and the Sacra-
ment of Marriage (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Press, 1996); P. Evdokimov.
The Sacrament of Love (New York, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press,
1985); J. Meyendorff. Marriage An Orthodox Perspective (New York, NY: St.
Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1975); St. Vladimir’s Seminary Quarterly vol. 8. 1.
1964 is comprised of papers from a symposium dedicated to the Ortho-
dox approach to marriage. See also: K. Ritzer. Le Mariage dans les Églises
Chrétiennes du Ier au XIIière siecles (Paris: Beauchesne, 1970); A. Raes. Le
Mariage dans les Églises d’Orient (Chevetogne: Monastery of the Holy Cross,
1958).
xv
xvi LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
of communion that actually mirrors the Lord’s own salvific love for
his church. The idea of contract of course (especially such an im-
portant social one as marriage) need not be necessarily opposed to
the idea of spiritual communion. Nor do we need to set up polar
opposites – as if love and law were irreconcilables. The Old Testa-
ment theologians knew well enough that at the root of the idea of
contract between God and Israel was the sacred notion of Cove-
nant (berith), which included such foundational notions as the di-
vine election of a people, the nurturing of their social progress, and
the fostering of the covenantal contract with Israel through the
Temple cult as well as through the overarching ‘divine’ virtues of
Faithfulness and Mercy (Hesed and Emet). But even so, Jesus’
change of emphasis at the outset is significant and important. His
tendency in beginning to theologize on human relations sets him at
a tangent to Old Testament legalism and makes his teaching stand
in an even sharper contrast with the presuppositions of Roman
law: both of which have their philosophy of marital relationship
steeped in the laws of possession.
When he was asked about the Mosaic law of divorce he clearly
taught the Pharisees that they were fundamentally mistaken to set
the bond of marriage in the context of contractual ‘social law’, but
should rather see it in terms of the deeper and more basic divine
covenant that God made with humankind in the creation:
And the Pharisees came up to him and tested him by asking, Is
it lawful to divorce one’s wife for any cause? He answered,
Have you not read that he who made them from the beginning
made them male and female, and said, For this reason a man
shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and
the two shall become one flesh? So they are no longer two but
one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man
put apart. They said to him, Why then did Moses command
one to give a certificate of divorce, and to put her away? He
said to them, For your hardness of heart Moses allowed you to
divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so. 2
2 Mt. 19. 3–8.

FOREWORD xvii
Over and against the economies that were necessary for society
where ‘hardness of heart’ was the common order of the day (has it
changed so much?), the Lord begins to set a new standard for his
church, which itself goes back to the more fundamental creation
covenant, which he has come to restore and repristinate in his
church. The Mosaic law of contractual divorce is made to give way
to a higher ‘law of one flesh’, in other words erotic communion.
Here, marriage is not to be seen as a prophetic-ethical institution
for the refinement of society (the matrix of so much modern Chris-
tian thought on the issue), rather as a creation-structure instituted
by God as part of the human participation in the divine energy of
his gift of life to the world. It is this aspect of participation (methex-
is) in God’s energy of creation that leads to marriage being found-
ed, in Jesus’ logion, in terms of communion (being joined into one-
ness). Orthodoxy deduces form this the premiss that it is God who
bonds a man and a woman in a mystical union that grows out of
the union of flesh. Now there are many other different types of
definition of what a marriage is: but it seems to me that this fun-
damental New Testament insight is specific to the point of unique-
ness, is counter-cultural, and surely needs to be prioritized as the
basis for the essence of ‘authentic’ Christian theology of marriage.
This kind of marriage that the Christ is talking about, is not
available off the shelf. It is not the result of a mutual passion that
wishes to set up house together and get a civilly valid piece of pa-
per to assert mutual social rights and obligations following from
the ‘engagement’. The Lord, as far as I can see, has nothing to say
about this presumption of marriage. It does not seem to interest
him. This is like a Civil Union. Now a Civil Union (by which term I
also mean to include civilly registered marriages) is very important
to society and to the partners involved, and to the families which
result. But it is not what Christ means by marriage in this Gospel
text. Nor, for that matter, is much of the modern discourse about
marriage in society always necessarily in harmony with the mind of
Christ (the phronema Christou). Anyone who has studied the scrip-
tures for even a few moments ought to realize that the Lord has
some very off-center views: not least the call to disciples to regard
marriage bonds as subservient to the demands of discipleship even
xviii LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
to the point of being justification enough to leave wife and chil-

dren, as well as the call to discipleship being ‘higher’ than the family
bonds of kinship; 3 and it is important not to flatten out these spiky
eschatological doctrines excessively horizontally when exegeting his
meanings. We cannot simply presume that Jesus was advocating a
socially acceptable doctrine of marriage when he taught. No more
likely was it that he was advocating a useful economic theory of
money when we look at his eschatological sayings on wealth. 4 Ra-
ther, he was offering his disciples an eschatological doctrine of
truth; and this element of radical angle (being ‘aslant’) to the com-
mon sense views of socially accepted ideas needs to be noted, and
honoured, even by his very non-eschatological modern disciples.
When Jesus spoke of marriage as a creation ordinance, it set
the Apostle to reflecting, and he re-interpreted this utterance to the
effect that the psycho-physical bond of marriage is a profound sac-
rament of the love Christ has for his church. 5 The wife’s relation to
the husband (hypotagma – often literalistically summed up as ‘subjec-
tion’) is far more than the sad semantic that subjection connotes
today (antipathetical, as it would be, to all who would argue for
women’s liberation) for in the Apostolic context it means kenosis
not abject obedience. The female disciple’s hypotagma is spoken of
as the textual parallel to the way the Church at large stands before
3Mt. 10. 35–37; 12.49–50; 19.29; 23.9.

4Mt. 22. 20–22; Mk. 10.23–26.
5 Ephes. 5.24–32. ‘As the church is subject to Christ, so let wives al-
so be subject (hypotassetai) in all things to their husbands. 25 Husbands,

love your wives, as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her,
26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water
with the word, 27 that he might present the church to himself in splendor,
without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and
without blemish. 28 Even so husbands should love their wives as their
own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29 For no man ever
hates his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, as Christ does the
Church, 30 because we are members of his body. 31 ‘For this reason a
man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the
two shall become one flesh.’ 32 This mystery is a profound one (mega mys-
terion), and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the Church.’
FOREWORD xix
the Risen Christ – and this is not connoted by ‘subjection’ in the

sense the world attaches to this but rather a voluntary kenosis of
love that exalts and delivers freedom. Hypotagma in the classical
Greek sense means ‘order’ before any connotation of inferiority.
Male or female the Church stands in order under the dominion of
Christ. This is the relationship the Apostle suggest the wife ought
to mirror in her relation to the husband: since he too, as a brother
in Christ, stands to her as an icon of the Christ she is called to love
with kenotic freedom. Accordingly, the subject-status of the wom-
an to the husband spoken of here is far more than a mimesis of late
Roman social conventions (the subservient and dutiful Matrona of
the Roman Household Code, the wife who is docile and will not
rock the boat of the authority of the paterfamilias). Again in parallel
literary structure the wife’s Christian hypotagma (her allegiance to
Christ as a Christian being mirrored in her marital relation) is set in
harmony by the Apostle with the correct attitude of the husband
whose ‘dominion’ (kyriotes, andreia – but we note how this term of
dominance is implied not spoken overtly by the Apostle) is to be
one of exaltation of the other to synonymity of communion – in
other words equality in a hypotagma of mutual reverence ‘In Christ’.
But it is a theological equalization the Apostle speaks of (again not
a social one that the world could give out of its own resources –
such as civil gains won irrespective of Christ). This equalization is
given by analogy with the husband’s own hypotagma to Christ, the
Lord who became a servant for all so as to lift up all the Church
into his own liberative glory. This is the Dominion, and this is the
Kenosis of the Lord, whose equalizing (admission into communion)
of his ‘subjects’ makes them into ‘friends, no longer servants’. 6
Such a mutuality of love evoked by the Apostle here is no petty
matter of who is the ‘head of the house’: this is an explanation of
marriage that defines it as (or at least challenges it to rise to) a mime-
sis of the Lord’s own headship of his Church, forged and ham-
mered out in his kenosis of death and exaltation in the Resurrection,
by which great mystery of salvation he was constituted Lord and
Saviour of the Church. Such a life-praxis is meant to be as deep as
death, and as limitless as God’s own compassion. And this is why
6 Jn. 15.15.
xx LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
the Apostle calls marriage (as this core energy of the mimesis of
Christ’s deepest salvation mystery) as ‘Great Mystery’ (mega mysteri-
on). How often has this deep and magisterial teaching of the Apos-
tle been dimly rendered as an affirmation of late Roman social or-
der – in the form that wives ought to be subordinated to their hus-
bands? All too often has the Apostolic meditation on Christ’s es-
chatological mysticism been so falsified as bourgeois ethics. What
the Apostle says is that husband and wife must apply to one the
kenotic subjection of Christ, and also his lordly dominion. In his
subjection the Christ was shown to be Kyrios, Lord and Master. In
his Dominion he was shown to be Doulos: servant of all. This mu-
tuality and synonymity is set as the pattern for the Christian hus-
band and wife: in their communion they live out the mystery of the
Lord’s own redemptive ministry as both Lord and Servant.
In this way marriage becomes a ‘mystery’ as a sign or ideal
epitome of all the Christian life: that searching out of the ‘Mind of
Christ’ (phronema Christou) that seeks a kenosis in order to gain the
love and communion of the beloved. 7 The husband’s authority
(which in the ancient world was presumed to be very high and su-
perior to that of a woman) is laid at the service of the beloved, just
as his authority is laid at the feet of his Lord, Christ. But all three
partners meet equally in kenosis, and find their equality in the laying
aside of privilege by love. In a uniquely mystical way the married
couple are called to fulfill the supreme command of disciples:
‘Love one another as I have loved you.’ And this ‘as’, the way
Christ loved his Church, was to give himself without counting the
cost: the way of the martyrdom of love. It is this martyrdom-gift of
self which sets the flame to make the continued gift possible and
desirable. If this martyrdom gift is met and reciprocated the mar-
riage relation becomes a Merkavah: a fiery chariot that leads to the
kingdom. The mutual love and joy that a Christian partnership lives
from within this mystery of Christ’s Passion (for it is a mystery of
the Redemption, a sacrifice, a radical risking of the ego) reaches a
critical reactive mass, like a nuclear reaction, when it is followed to
the point of becoming a culture of self-giving within a marriage. It
is then that the marriage bond starts to function to others as a liv-
7 Phil. 2. 5–11.
FOREWORD xxi
ing icon of the burning love Christ has for his church, and how
that love will be the eschatological bonding of all the disciples, in
the Kingdom of his joy.
This true and mystical definition of marriage is a peak of
Christian perfection. The reality can be assailed, and constantly is,
by the ‘hardness of heart’ that causes so much other human misery
and sin; but it is set up by Christ and his Apostle as a different or-
der to this. According to Christ’s own vision: love within the mys-
tery of marriage leads a couple to enter deep into the roots of the
creation power, and to find there the primal language of commun-
ion: the love in which God first made humanity, male and female,
in his own image. Marriage is, to that extent, an entrance of the
creature into the life of the Holy Trinity itself. In Christ, the mar-
riage mystery is graced as an authentic and whole part of creation
which is meant to encounter the Uncreated. This is undoubtedly
why Christ rebuked the Pharisees when they set out to define mar-
riage first and foremost in terms of closely boundaried contract of
mutual rights and obligations. Over and against this limited per-
spective (legal prescript which takes its basis on the premiss of hu-
man closure and self-interest, rather than altruism and sacrifice) the
Lord places the image of how God himself contracts with his crea-
tion: an overwhelmingly excessive and great outpouring of charis-
matic generosity, a search for a mutuality of love (such is the hu-
mility of God!) in which the invitation to love is an invitation to
transfigured transcendence.
The language of marital purposes, functions, contracts, obliga-
tions: has been used very heavily in times past (and in secular socie-
ty especially) to hedge around the mystery of marriage. Such terms
are not inapplicable, of course, especially considering the weighty
responsibilities to others which the marriage bond itself creates, but
they are secondary. Christ speaks of the primary mystery: all else
flows from it as deductions. Christian theology of marriage begins
in a spiritual mystery of communion that is awesome (causing
thauma in its divinely revelatory energy) in all its power and signifi-
cance. It is this alone that can breathe Christ’s joy and his life into
all the contracts the world can draw up. When the spirit of loving
communion leaves a marriage (graceful presence of that Spirit of
truth who fashions the Church constantly into the true Icon of
Christ and thereby elevates it into communion with the Trinity),
not all the paper of all the contracts in the world can keep it to-
xxii LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
gether. Those who continue to live together in increasingly parallel

lives, in loveless homes without charismatic marital communion (it
applies to many couples who do not wish to divorce for a multi-
tude of reasons), must learn to endure a wilderness of such heart-
wearying numbness as brings them into the danger of a spiritual
death. The invisible martyrdom of such problematic marriages is an
experience of crucifixion at the heart of many individual lives in
our own time: a pastoral problem that is compounded by the sense
of shame and anxiety of those involved who therefore often do not
seek the compassionate counsel the Church might be able to offer
them, until the relationships are in a terminal state.
In his own teaching the Lord constantly refers to marriage,
and the happy festivals that marked a marriage in ancient Palestine,
as a fundamental symbol (typos) of the coming Kingdom of God. 8
It is instructive that in reference to this concept of the Kingdom
(namely the most elevated form of his Father’s will for the Cosmos
and his presence within it), the Lord continually chooses to use the
symbol of the wedding feast. This takes its force, of course, from
the ancient biblical notion that God is the sole bridegroom of Isra-
el. But it is also indicative of how the mystery of marriage is itself
one of the great symbolic gates that can open up the manifestation
of the glory of the Lord. Like the disciples at Cana (whom we can
note were already chosen and blessed as apostles, and already fol-
lowing their master), the initiates of this sacrament can actually
‘start to believe’ from what they have seen.
At the Cana wedding, we are told that the Lord ‘allowed his
glory to be seen.’ 9 It is a phrase in the evangelist John which delib-
erately evokes the manifestation of God’s glory when he made the
first covenant with Israel at Sinai. 10 Accordingly it is another way
the New Testament has to elevate marriage as a sign par excellence of
the advent of the Kingdom. The Lord’s allowance of his ‘glory
manifested’ brought belief to life in the hearts of his closest disci-
ples at Cana. This marriage served as a symbolic and joyful back-
ground against which the new covenant of his merciful advent
8 Among others: Mt. 22.1–14; Mt. 25.1; Lk. 12 35–36.

9 Jn. 2.11.
10 LXX. Deut. 5.24.
FOREWORD xxiii
could be suitably manifested. The mystery of the great outpouring

of New Wine was the sign of the new covenant in his blood which
would bond together God and mankind in a new marriage where
God would be the sole husband (the Baal) of Israel, and would tol-
erate no other spouse for his elected bride.
Whether the married couple remain a small dyad standing at
the intersection of larger kin groups, or whether they begin a new
home and family of their own, what is at stake in terms of the
Gospel is the manner in which this foundation of a new locus of
love, a home, becomes a place where the expansive divine energy is
manifested – that creation energy that generously pours itself out
over the world. Children are an exemplar of this creation energy in
an obvious way – not merely a physically procreative way but the
whole emotional and spiritual formation that is just as important to
the parents (forming and re-forming them in the process) as it is
necessary to the children. But whether with or without children the
issue is to make of this ‘new home’ a place on earth where the
Gospel injunctions are fulfilled: to clothe the naked, to instruct the
ignorant, to heal the sorrowing, to feed the hungry. A married cou-
ple energize each other to recreate the world around them such
that in their home the fundamental attitudes of Christ are exalted
and those of the world are scaled down. Such a home causes ob-
servers to imagine that it is a true ‘house-Church’ (ecclesiola) where
the ‘liturgy after the liturgy’ continues to be fulfilled. Such observ-
ers can rightly remark about such a home: ‘Here is a place where
indeed the stranger is made welcome; the poor are fed, and the
sorrowing are comforted.’ It is in this workshop of love that any
children of a marriage ( and how they develop and extend it in new
keys and ranges of composition!) will also first learn the meaning of
the Gospel, from the charity of Christ it engenders all around it.
To be of ‘one flesh’, as Christ described marriage, is to elevate
erotic communion as a valid symbol of God’s love and a valid path
to holiness for the married couple. Orthodox Christian reflection
on the beauty and holiness of sexual love certainly needs some de-
velopment. In times past the majority of the theologians of the
church have tended to be monastics or ascetics. This has been the
case from the fourth century onwards. As a result, the church has
had very few theologians who have really celebrated the glory of
the married condition rhapsodically, and from the lived inner expe-
rience of it. Being predominantly approached from the perspective
xxiv LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
of celibates, and often denigrated as something defective, or at least

much less elevated than the celibate ascetical life, 11 it has not yet
been sung about in a full range of necessary theological keys. Nev-
ertheless, it is significant to remember that marital union is the only
sacrament spoken of as the Mega Mysterion of Christ and his
Church. Monastic asceticism is not spoken of in this elevated way
in the scripture. Indeed, one of the first of all the Christian heresies
was the attempt to impose celibacy on all Christians as a ‘higher
standard’, and these zealots were denounced by the apostle as hav-
ing followed ‘deceitful spirits’ to teach the ‘doctrine of demons’. 12
These are harsh words. But from the very beginning it was felt to
be necessary to protect the glories of the married vocation. And
perhaps this is true even today. The Orthodox church still waits for
great theologians and poets who can sing the glories of the mystery
of marriage properly. Only in recent generations, and perhaps es-
pecially when women disciples across the world can widely com-
mand an elevated standard of literary education (a relatively recent
state of affairs in terms of world history), will such works of theol-
ogy, celebrating the sacramentality of erotic communion come to
be written in a fitting manner.
The truth is, I suggest, it is incorrect to speak of an ascetical
path or a married path being ‘higher’ 13 than another. The ascetical
vocation is glorious for those the Lord has called to it. No less glo-
11 A theme excessively developed by Pope Gregory the Great in the

7th century and popularized by many subsequent ascetical writers.
12 1 Tim. 4. 1–3.
13 This often emerges from a woodenly de-contextualised exegesis of
1 Cor. 7.38, but here St. Paul is speaking about the expectation of an im-
minent end to the world, and in this light advises his congregations not to
worry too much about wedding settlements, and to care instead for the
impending judgement. He is not giving a relative reflection on the merits
of virginity or marriage as such. The fathers who exegeted him in this way
were ascetics themselves, concerned with the glorification of the virginal
life in a Hellenistic context which broadly despised it. Now the balance
needs alteration, for often the ascetical writers give the impression that
marriage is an inferior vocation fitting only for those who are’ not able to
take up the challenges of celibacy’. Which is a deeply distorted view.
FOREWORD xxv
rious and mystical is the path of married love, for those to whom
God has appeared within it. Its secrets are hidden from those with-
out. Its profundities are blessed by God with a creation ordinance
‘to be fruitful and multiply’. 14 It is an ascetical path as much as any
other – in its own terms and specific styles.
Marriage is the broad highway where most Orthodox Chris-
tians (not the specific and zealous ascetics and celibates) are called
by God. When they are so called into this mystery of mutual love,
it is to perform once more the priestly task of refining raw matter
into the purified gold of spiritual glory. In the eyes and ways of this
world marriage is a simpler less mystical contractual matter, to
mark off sexual and legal relations; something that is entirely in the
hand and at the disposal of the men and women who fashion this
bond among themselves (which is why its survival rates are so des-
perate in this day and age of increasing spiritual bankruptcy). How-
ever, in the thought processes of the church, it is not like this. Mar-
riage itself is called to become something new: a great mystery, as it
rises into the art of being the way in which two Christians form
one heart and mind with Christ as their common Lord.
‘There are many mansions in my Father’s house,’ the Lord
told his apostles; 15 marriage is the mystery by which means many of
those mansions are being fashioned out of the raw matter of histo-
ry, and through the struggle of kins and families to create a com-
mon heritage of Christian civilisation across generations. In the
Orthodox Church great stress is placed on the celebration of the
feast days of Christ’s ancestors ‘according to the flesh’. Their life-
stories, their achievements and personal histories are caught up
into something greater than they could ever have known. So it is
with the mystery of marriage: each smaller unit of the new family is
part of a greater and more complex hidden family of ancestors.
The mutual love of two Christians is part of the very spiritual and
moral formation that has been given to them by generations that
were mature before they were even born. Born out of love, they in
turn learn to love and create new love, and co-create new life. The
spiral of human history making its way forwards in a civilising
14 Gen. 1. 27–28.
15 Jn. 14.2.
xxvi LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY
power, despite all and every setback of war, or poverty, or disease,

is seen most clearly revealed in the forward progress of family love
and mutual care within the church. Within the mystery of marriage,
therefore, the priestly vocation of the Christian is fulfilled, that
same priestly task that marks off all discipleship’s endeavour: the
consecration of human matter into spiritual significance, through
the hallowing force of love.
Marriage, as the Apostle tells us is truly a ‘Great Mystery’. The
Orthodox church holds to the eschatological and radical nature of
its significance as a faithful recipient of the Tradition of the Lord.
These remarks, limited though they are, are merely an initial reflec-
tion. The wider theme remains to be more deeply considered and is
therefore a very fitting subject for our common scholarly reflec-
tions in this volume, and highly apposite in this time and age.
THE SACRAMENT OF LOVE:
PAUL EVDOKIMOV’S VISION OF
MARRIAGE, LOVE AND VOCATION
MICHAEL PLEKON
Evdokimov sounds a clear note for us:
It appears that a new spirituality is dawning. It aspires not to
leave the world to evil, but to let the spiritual element in the
creature come forth. A person who loves and is totally de-
tached, naked to the touch of the eternal, escapes the contrived
conflict between the spiritual and the material. His love of
God is humanized and becomes love for all creatures in God.
‘Everything is grace,’ Bernanos wrote, because God has de-
scended into the human and carried it away to the abyss of the
Trinity. The types of traditional holiness are characterized by
the heroic style of the desert, the monastery. By taking a cer-
tain distance from the world, this holiness is stretched toward
heaven, vertically, like the spire of a cathedral. Nowadays, the
axis of holiness has moved, drawing nearer to the world. In all
its appearances, its type is less striking, its achievement is hid-
den from the eyes of the world, but it is the result of a struggle
that is no less real. Being faithful to the call of the Lord, in the
conditions of this world, makes grace penetrate to its very
root, where human life is lived. 1
1Paul Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, trans. A.P. Gythiel and V.

Steadman (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1995), 92.
1
2 MICHAEL PLEKON
Recently, I have explored this idea of holiness in and for our time. 2
There has been a great deal of conflict recently, about how mar-
riage should be understood in our society and about what the
church teaches from scripture and tradition. Some of this has been
occasioned by the efforts to afford the same legal status to all, by
recognizing same-sex marriage as the law does heterosexual mar-
riage. It has been seen as necessary, by some, to ‘defend’ marriage
from such efforts, yet this is hardly the only sense in which mar-
riage has been in crisis. The high rates of the breakup of marriages
by divorce, the choice by many not to marry though sharing a life
in every respect, spousal abandonment and abuse – and the list of
factors could go on.
Some in the church believe there are really no questions to
explore, nothing to discuss or debate regarding marriage. Our ver-
sion of marriage in the early 21st century is simply thought of as the
way marriage always has been. The scriptures, the church’s tradi-
tions, both in council canons and the writings of the fathers and
others present marriage unequivocably as between men and wom-
en who are in love with each other, will only have one spouse and
one marriage in their lives, and who marry for the purpose of bear-
ing children and raising them. Clearly even in the scriptures these
models of romance-based monogamy and the nuclear family are
not to be the only ones, if they are found at all. Rather we find po-
lygamy, much larger extended families that appear tribal, not to
mention rigorous rules for whom one can marry, abandonment and
the ending of marriage. Provisions are made too in the case of a
spouse’s death for inheritance of property and further support of a
parent and children. Even in the NT there is the understanding
that some members of the Christian community will be married to
individuals outside of it.
In light of all this I want to reflect on some of the distinctive
contributions of theologian Paul Evdokimov (1900–1969), one of
the émigré Russians who settled in France and was educated at the
first Orthodox theological school established in the West, St. Ser-
gius Institute in Paris. Evdokimov wrote almost exclusively in
2Michael Plekon. Hidden Holiness and Saints as They Really Are (Notre
Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2012).
PAUL EVDOKIMOV’S VISION OF MARRIAGE 3
French, himself often seen as a member of the ‘Paris school’ of

thinkers connected to St. Sergius. In a memoir essay he names the
philosopher Nicholas Berdyaev and theologian Fr. Sergius Bulga-
kov as his principal teachers – their influence is evident throughout
his own writing. But he was also shaped by his colleagues theologi-
ans Nicholas Afanasiev, Lev Zander, his close friends Elisabeth
Behr-Sigel and Fr. Lev Gillet, as well as historians Anton Kartashev
and George Fedotov, to mention just a few. Antoine Arjakovsky
provides an exhaustive look at this amazing assembly of lively, crit-
ical and creative intellectuals in Paris between the wars and thereaf-
ter in his masterful study. 3
Berdyaev is best known for his championing of freedom in
the church and of engagement in the world. So too Fedotov, who
created a new hagiography or way of studying the lives of holy
people, someone whose approach I have followed. Bulgakov is one
of the most creative theologians in the modern era. He revisited the
basic Christian dogmas, seeking to reflect on them in the language
and thinking of the modern era. He, along with all the rest named
above, were passionately committed to the ecumenical movement,
as founding and active members of the Fellowship of St. Alban and
St. Sergius and what we know after 1948 as the World Council of
Churches. Afanasiev rediscoverd the ‘eucharistic ecclesiology’ of
the early church as well as its ethos of love not law. Kartashev
looked back to the way the church resolved divisions in earlier cen-
turies. Lev Gillet tried to bridge the churches of the east and west
not only in what they shared from before division but what they
needed to share of their own distinctive traditions afterwards.
One characteristic of all these Paris school thinkers, as well as
others not mentioned like Mother Maria Skobtsova, was their con-
viction that the Gospel was to be lived out in all the complexity of
everyday life. They saw the relationship of church and society as
essential, transformative. They welcomed the challenges of moder-
nity rather than being terrified by them. They were open to rather
than condemning of the modern, Western world around them.
3 Antoine Arjakovsky. The Way: Religious Thinkers of the Russian Emi-

gration in Paris and Their Journal (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre
Dame Press, 2013).
4 MICHAEL PLEKON
Some of them had in youthful revolutionary and reformist idealism,

abandoned the church, only to return but with a new understand-
ing of the church and a profound commitment to life and work in
the world, with those outside their own ethnic and church commu-
nities. Just as with those in the nouvelle theologie or ‘return to the
sources’ movement – some with whom they knew, studied and
talked, these émigré thinkers saw the world as of God’s making and
redeeming. They were educated not only in literature and philoso-
phy but in the arts. They embraced the culture of the 20th century
while recognizing the demonic forces at work among the Bolshe-
viks, the Nazis and other fascists.
They were welcomed as émigrés into the west by other Chris-
tians whom they came to see as brothers and sisters in the Lord.
Thus their passion for the ecumenical movement, their intense
dedication to refugees, those unemployed and impoverished by the
Great Depression, those hunted down in WWII. As Arjakovsky’s
panoramic examination makes clear, these Parisians were also
shaped by the Moscow council of 1917–18. The ‘Vatican II’ of the
Orthodox world, this council’s amazing reconciliation of many per-
spectives produced a blueprint for sweeping reforms of the church
and church life at every level. Hyacinthe Destivelle’s study makes
the scope and significance of this council’s work clear. 4 These re-
forms could not be implemented in Russia but which were put to
work in the Russian Orthodox Exarchate in Paris and Western Eu-
rope under the remarkable Metropolitan Evlogy (Georgievsky).
Paul Evdokimov was both a product of this Paris school and
one of its finest teachers and writers. His writings are shaped by the
openness of the Paris school to society and culture and to careful
historical research. He looked to the lives of believers in the mod-
ern world as the location for the living out of the faith they treas-
ured. He surely ‘returned to the sources’ of scripture, liturgy,
church fathers but also felt the lived-experience of modern people
needed to also be consulted, both nonbelievers and believers as
4 Le concile de Moscou (1917–1918) (Paris: Cerf, 2006). A translation by

Jerry Ryan and edited by Vitaly Permiakov and myself is forthcoming
from UND Press.
well. Thus one hears the voices of Paul Claudel and Berdyaev, but
also DeBeauvoir, Sartre and Camus in Paul Evdokimov.
This background, I believe, will help give context to his think-
ing about marriage in our time, most of it to be found in his book,
The Sacrament of Love, although some of his essential perspectives
are to be found throughout his substantial body of work. I should
say at the outset that there are few explicit solutions in Evdo-
kimov’s work to issues that are controversial today, such as same
sex marriage or couples living together and not wanting to get mar-
ried. Given when he wrote on marriage, in the 1950s, he simply did
not address these issues. But this does not mean he has nothing to
offer us today. I believe he does make a valuable contribution, a
way of thinking about marriage as well as monasticism as vocation.
On the basis of his careful look at the history of marriage in the
church, he was critical about the shape and details of marriage be-
ing held up as ideal in the 20th century, this over against the evolu-
tion of marriage from the ancient world, from Judaism, the Greco-
Roman and other traditions and then the emerging church of the
early centuries.
In The Sacrament of Love and other texts, Evdokimov looks
carefully at both history and church tradition. He examines a host
of images of marriage and sexuality, purity and corruption from
classical antiquity, the Hebrew Bible, the New Testament and later
Christian culture and writers. He traces and identifies over time a
distortion of the scriptural vision of women and men, sexual union
and love. From the original beauty and goodness of creation, the
effects of the fall came to distort everything about the body, about
sexuality and relationships. There were classical roots for this in
Hellenic and Gnostic repulsion from the body’s temporal, fallible,
corruptible nature but also later in Christian ascetical perspectives.
These came to see anything having to do with the flesh as contrary
to holiness, as dirty and corrupting. Even within marriage, the sex-
ual expression of spouses was seen as a necessary evil for what be-
came the primary purpose of marriage, namely procreation.
Evdokimov’s view of marriage is rooted in the anthropology
he uses throughout his writings. Marriage is a profoundly beautiful
human relationship, a gift of God and of immense worth in itself.
Marriage is connected by the Hebrew prophets to God’s covenant
or marriage to God’s people. Thus the intense human eroticism of
the Song of Songs celebrates the erotic union of lovers while at the
6 MICHAEL PLEKON
same time imaging the love of the Lord for Israel. One of the most
beautiful passages containing the anthropology of the human per-
son comes from The Sacrament of Love. The human person is a child
of God, created in God’s image and likeness. Each is par excellence
a ‘liturgical being.’
A saint is not a superman, but one who discovers and lives his
truth as a liturgical being. The best definition of a person
comes from the liturgy: the human being is the one of the
Trisagion and of the Sanctus (‘I will sing to the Lord as long as I
live’) … It is not enough to say prayers; one must become, be
prayer, prayer incarnate. It is not enough to have moments of
praise. All of life, each act, every gesture, even the smile of the
human face, must become a hymn of adoration, an offering, a
prayer. One should offer not what one has, but what one is.
This is a favored subject in iconography. It translates the mes-
sage of the Gospel: chairé, ‘rejoice and be glad,’ ‘let everything
that has breath praise the Lord.’ This is the astonishing lighten-
ing of the weight of the world, when man’s own heaviness
vanishes. ‘The King of Kings, Christ is coming,’ and this is the
‘one thing needful.’ The doxology of the Lord’s Prayer (‘the
kingdom, and the power and the glory’) is the heart of the lit-
urgy. It is to respond to his vocation as a liturgical being that
man is charismatic, the one who bears the gifts of the Holy
Spirit and the Holy Spirit Himself: ‘You have been sealed with
the Holy Spirit … you whom God has taken for His own, to
make His glory praised’ (Eph 1:14) … The best evangelization of
the world, the most effective witness to the Christian faith, is
this full liturgical hymn, the doxology which rises from the
depths of the earth, in which moves the powerful breath of the
Paraclete who alone converts and heals. 5
There is no theological abstraction here. The focus is on the lived
experience of prayer – of each of us becoming prayer, becoming
what we pray. Faith is incarnate in a person’s action, enacted in
living. Everything that Evdokimov has to say about marriage is set
in the context of vocation – the call through baptism for every
5 Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, 83–84.

Christian to put the Gospel into practice, to do the work of Christ

in his or her everyday life, to be holy, a saint. This is a perspective
shared with the re-appropriation of the Church as the People of
God, from Vatican II as well as the ‘return to the sources’ theologi-
ans who paved its way. The same perspective is found in Nicholas
Afanasiev’s understanding of the priesthood of all the baptized in
his rediscovery of ‘Eucharistic ecclesiology.’ And this vision was
that of numerous contemporary writers, Dorothy Day, chief
among them. The opening quotation puts this most eloquently,
seeing a more this-worldly or horizontal direction of love of God
and of the neighbor. Evdokimov thinks of this in terms of the
arms of the crucified Lord open to everything, drawing all to him-
self. Long before Vatican II, but in a vision shared with many oth-
ers who ‘returned to the sources’ of the scriptures, liturgy, the fa-
thers for renewal, Evdokimov sees holiness as universal, not the
distinctive heroism of the few officially recognized or canonized.
Holiness is the calling of all the baptized who are made priest,
kings and prophets. One might think of monastic life as the escha-
tological sign above all others – women and men becoming signs
of the kingdom by their renouncing family, spouse, children, prop-
erty and offering themselves to God in obedience.
Yet for Evdokimov, monasticism is never seen as a higher
calling than marriage. The two vocations are equally authentic ways
of living out the Gospel. 6 Both involve chastity – not only sexual
restraint but purity of heart and honesty, the deeper meanings of
chastity. Both demand witness and self-sacrifice, the emptying of
oneself in caring for the other. 7 Evdokimov sketches a provocative
profile of monasticism’s roots in the New Testament even though
it appeared later in history. As a radical form of conversion or
metanoia – the call of Christ at the outset of his ministry – monastic
life maximalizes the way of the kingdom preached by the Lord in
the gospels. 8 The earliest mothers and fathers of the desert sought
to give all they had, all they owned, all they were to the God who is
6 Ibid., 67.
7 Ibid., 70–71.
8 Ibid., 74–76.
8 MICHAEL PLEKON
the Lover of humankind. 9 The goal of their struggle or ascetisicm

was to ascend from the abyss of oneself to what God is – Spirit –
and not with hatred but with a burning love for all creation, people,
animals reptiles even demons, in the famous words of Isaac the
Syrian. 10
The view of monasticism’s vocational superiority did develop
in Christian history, to be seriously challenged in the 16th century
Reformation. Yet it is not present either in the scriptures, the litur-
gy or the writings of church teachers. John Chrysostom, who called
marriage the ‘sacrament of love,’ saw both married and celibates
called to the same Gospel mandate to be perfect as the heavenly
father, to commit oneself to prayer, to love of the neighbor and to
doing the works of love whatever one’s state in life or gender, age
or position in society. 11 For Evdokimov, what most importantly
links marriage and monasticism, in fact, what is the basis of every
vocation, is the priesthood of all believers given in baptism. 12 Like
his St. Sergius colleague and friend, Nicholas Afanasiev, Evdo-
kimov respects the functions and role of those called and ordained
to serve the rest of the church – bishops, presbyters and deacons.
The two theologians, however, find no prominence of the clergy
over the laity – one in fact must be first baptized and consecrat-
ed/anointed to the universal priesthood before any further calling
and ordaining is even possible. In the first centuries, as Afanasiev
carefully documents, those ordained to be servants of all were
called from within the community of each local church. 13 Only in
rare, exceptional circumstances did they come from beyond, as
outsiders posted to a new ‘assignment.’ Their authority was always
grounded in their responsibility to the rest of the community, their
election by the community being the recognition, in the Spirit, of
their gifts and abilities to serve and therefore, to lead, to teach, to
preside at the Eucharistic assembly of all. Afanasiev’s principal
9 Ibid., 77.
10 Ibid., 80–82.
11 Ibid., 83–84.
12 Ibid., 85–86.
13 Nicholas Afanasiev. The Church of the Holy Spirit, Vitaly Permiakov,
trans., Michael Plekon, ed. (UND Press, 2007), 136–147.

work, The Church of the Holy Spirit, offers a thorough historical ar-
gument as well as a theological case for the grounding of all voca-
tions in the ecclesial community created by baptism and constantly
affirmed in the Eucharist.
So for Evdokimov, marriage is the vocation to holiness in the
relationship of love between the spouses. Marriage is personal but
also ecclesial, for marriage is an image of the relationship of Christ
to the church and of each soul with God. Moving from Christian
history to the present, Evdokimov connects the vocations of all,
married or not or monastic to new patterns and ways of holiness in
our time, as the opening passage I cited claims. The ways of holi-
ness for us are ones ‘drawing nearer to the world. In all its appear-
ances, its type is less striking, its achievement is hidden from the
eyes of the world, but it is the result of a struggle that is no less
real.’ 14 Christendom, Constantinian or otherwise is long gone. Yet
some still yearn for this alliance of church and state, and in some
places, like Russia, the vision of Russkiy mir or ‘the Russian world,’
attempts to recreate the symbiosis of state, church and people. Like
his colleagues in the ‘Paris School,’ Evdokimov did not see our
world as a secular wasteland, a godless jungle of promiscuity and
corruption. Unlike those in the ‘culture wars,’ he points to the di-
verse and more ordinary forms of holiness that the Spirit is giving
to our era. Christianity may no longer be the social, political and
economic agent it once was, but in the lives of Christians the world
is taken into communion with the Holy Trinity. The world de-
pends, he says, on the cosmic love of saints. 15
The forms of social life undergo rapid and unforeseen changes;
by contrast, the religious action of every believer possesses a
great stability. One can become attentive to the designs of God
in the prodigious progress of science and technology … bring
together those who are lonely and create living communities of
witnesses … kindle the spirit of adoration and make a prayer
14 Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, 92.

15 Ibid., 94.
10 MICHAEL PLEKON
out of every work even in the cement and concrete heart of

the most modern city. 16
Evdokimov celebrates the witness of celibacy through the church’s
history, also noting where it continues to offer love and service to
those in need in our time, but he repeats John Chrysostom’s words
that marriage is an ‘image of heaven.’ 17 From the book of Genesis
and the primal spouses, Adam and Eve, he traces marriage within
the people of God not just as a relationship of social, economic,
and political necessity but an image of God and God’s relationship
to humanity. He examines the history of love which is the heart of
marriage and notes the symmetry of the Divine Trinity of love to
the trinity formed by the spouses united in God, the third person
in their marriage. 18 Love transforms, loves makes the two one. For
Chrysostom, marriage forms the ‘domestic church,’ for Clement of
Alexandria a ‘micro kingdom.’ If the church is the body of Christ, a
communion with God and communion of communions or com-
munities, then the communions of marriages as well as monastic
and parish communities build up and comprise this body, with
Christ as the head. 19
While presenting the Eastern churches’ view, Evdokimov an-
ticipated at new vision of marriage at the Second Vatican Council,
which he attended as a guest of the Secretariat for Unity and to
which his thinking contributed to the pastoral constitution on the
church in the world, Gaudium et spes. The primary aim of marriage,
as John Chrysostom argues, in the union of the spouses in love. 20
Then there is procreation. Both in the union of the spouses as well
as in the household of their children and other relatives Chrysos-
tom celebrates marriage as ‘a mysterious icon of the church.’ 21 Mar-
riage is where one sees the ‘ongoing/permanent Pentecost’ as Bul-
gakov called the Spirit’s work in the world. The Spirit gives light
16 Ibid., 101.
17 Ibid., 101–102.
18 Ibid., 115–117.
19 Ibid., 118.
20 Ibid., 120
21 Ibid., 123.
and life, fire and healing, opens the kingdom to the world and the
world to the kingdom. 22 While the typology of male and female in
The Sacrament of Love as well as in Woman and the Salvation of the
World now appears forced and problematic, it does not ultimately
devalue the vision of love and the understanding of marriage in
Evdokimov’s writing. (In a communication from his now deceased
second wife, Tomoko Faerber-Evdokimov, I learned that Paul Ev-
dokimov had very much wanted to revise both of these books’
treatment of the charisms and types of women and men. His sud-
den death in 1969 had prevented this.)
Evdokimov displays not only a healthy sense of ‘economy’ but
a profoundly humane and pastoral compassion in his treatment of
the misogyny of Paul and later ecclesial devaluation of sex and mar-
riage. 23 The encroachment of Greek repulsion for the flesh and
monastic/ascetic obsession with its corrupting force are simply not
supported by the scriptures and I the fullness of time, the Incarna-
tion of God. The influence not only of Solovyov but of his own
teacher, Sergius Bulgakov, is to be found here. By the Incarnation,
the ‘humanity of God’ changes everything not only for us crea-
tures, we humans, but for God as well. For an ascetic and celibate
such as John Chrysostom, spouses are not inferior to monastics
and can even manifest greater holiness than their monastic sisters
and brothers. 24 The canons recognize both marriage and monasti-
cism as honorable paths to holiness. 25
Finally, Evdokimov gives a discerning overview of modern
culture, literature and other depictions of sexuality. While critical of
the glorification of sex, he is careful to see both promiscuity and
Puritanism as dehumanizing. Though his depiction of the culture
of sexuality will appear dated in several ways, what is insightful is
his nuanced understanding and use of Freud and Jung, along with
Dostoevsky and others to separate what is destructive from what is
good and beautiful and human. It is not eros, not sexuality, not the
22 Ibid., 125.
23 Ibid., 161–164.
24 Ibid., 164.
25 Ibid., 162–163.
12 MICHAEL PLEKON
body that are problematic, rather how we use or abuse these inte-
gral aspects of our being and identity.
The same humane, pastoral perspective informs Evdokimov’s
observations on contraception and divorce. In the Eastern Church,
there is no absolute prohibition to the former. Rather it is a matter
of freedom – that of the spouses and their spiritual father, their
circumstances, their abilities. Divorce, always a tragedy, is not
simply ‘allowed’ by the Eastern Church. Rather, the leading princi-
ple is to work for the good of the individual, of each of the spouses
whose marriage as been destroyed. 26 Evdokimov urges us to recog-
nize the mystery of the ‘yes’ pronounced and then lived out in a
marriage. There are real incompatibilities only discovered in time.
There are people who are ‘mis-loved’ as well as not-loved, abused,
betrayed, abandoned without leaving the premises. Indissolubility
cannot have primacy over the good of the spouses, over love. Di-
vorce in the Eastern Church is not simply license to terminate mar-
riage and enter a new one. In principle the process of divorce must
be as serious as the marriage, the tragedy and sin of the destruction
appreciated. In the New Testament there is a radical inversion of
social and cultural norms – the last become first, the poor are fed
and the mighty cast down, the tax collectors and prostitutes are
first into the kingdom! So much for nice romantic, middle class or
even ‘religious’ models of behavior.
Paul Evdokimov offers us no convenient solution of issues
that are controversial, that divide us regarding marriage or for that
matter, sexuality, contraception, same-sex marriage. This was noted
at the outset. Yet what he offers is a different view of marriage,
love and sex from the ones we often find in church thinking. He
clearly takes scripture seriously and as primary. He consults the
tradition with great discernment, using celibates to praise and sup-
port marriage while viewing monasticism as having its own distinc-
tive charism and place. He is careful not to privilege any state or
vocation, recognizing the potential in every human life for holiness.
He is never a moralist, both due to the Eastern Church’s non-
legalistic approach to ethics as well as to the personalism he learned
from Berdyaev as well as many other contemporaries.
26 Ibid., 186–190.
In our present atmosphere, so often incited by the ‘culture

wars’ and the obsession of church leaders to speak out (sometimes
with little grace or nuance), Evdokimov’s is a voice of restraint as
well as of discernment and compassion. Rather than rage against
the likes of Dawkins and Hitchens and others, Evdokimov wanted
to listen carefully to atheists, agnostic, doubters and critics. He
wrote about the understandable boredom of thinking people with
archaic, unintelligible services and meaningless texts, their revulsion
for both sinister traditionalists or frantic progressives, the black-
clad clergy or otherwise. 27 Evdokimov took atheism seriously,
treating it at the beginning of one of his principal works and even
suggesting that divinity schools set up an endowed chair for it. 28
The person is first, the mercy of God without limits, absurd
by our standards, as one of his best essays argues. Even though
written several decades ago, one quickly catches the lightness of
touch, the pastoral sensitivity when he reflected on broken mar-
riages and divorce. The ease these days, with which church teach-
ing is absolutized, turned into manifesto, a line in the sand – this
would be alien to his understanding of the relationship of the indi-
vidual to the church and to Christ. Rediscovering his approach is
not to encounter, as a cynical commentator put it not long ago,
admirable points of view appropriate to the post WWII years but
no longer useful today. On the contrary, it is a vision of a truly ‘liv-
ing tradition.’ I believe this passage, with which I close, bears that
out quite forcefully.
In the immense cathedral that is the universe, the human per-
son who is priest, whether worker or scholar, makes of every-
thing an offering, a hymn, a doxology … According to Mer-
leau-Ponty, ‘humanity is condemned to meaning,’ each person
is invited to live out the faith, to see what is not seen, contem-
27 Paul Evdokimov. Ages of the Spiritual Life, rev. trans. Michael

Plekon & Alexis Vinogradov (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary
Press, 1998), 17.
28 Ibid., 21–48, In the World, of the Church: A Paul Evdokimov Reader,
Michael Plekon & Alexis Vinogradov, eds. & trans. (Crestwood, NY: St.
Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001), 59.
14 MICHAEL PLEKON
plate the wisdom of god in the apparent absurdity of history

and to become light, revelation and prophecy. Marveling thus
at the existence of God, ‘the world is full of the Trinity,’ a lay-
person is also slightly mad with the foolishness of which St.
Paul speaks, with the paradoxical humor of the ‘fools of
Christ,’ alone capable of shattering the overly serious, heavi-
ness of the doctrinaires. A layperson is one freed by his faith
from the ‘great fear’ of the 20th century, fear of the bomb, of
cancer, of communism, of death; such a person’s faith is al-
ways a way of loving the world, a way of following his Lord
even into hell. This is certainly not a part of a theological sys-
tem, but perhaps it is only from the depths of hell that a daz-
zling and joyous hope can be born and assert itself. Christianity
in the grandeur of its confessors and martyrs, in the dignity of
every believer, is messianic, revolutionary, explosive. In the
domain of Caesar, we are ordered to seek and therefore to find
what is not found there – the Kingdom of God. This order
signifies that we must transform the world, change it into the
icon of the Kingdom. To change the world means to pass
from what the world does not yet possess – for this reason it is
still this world – to that in which it is transfigured, thus becom-
ing something else – the Kingdom. 29
29 Evdokimov. Ages of the Spiritual Life, 224–225.

OUT OF DREAMS AND ANGELS:
LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY IN THE
NEW TESTAMENT
JEFFREY B. PETTIS
INTRODUCTION
I should like to begin a discussion on love, marriage, and family in
the New Testament by starting at the front of the New Testament
with the Gospel of Matthew. In like order, I will end discussion at
the back with the Book of Revelation. Between these two
bookends I will examine the notion of spiritual rising as a funda-
mental and expanding context through which love, marriage, and
family can be read and seen to transform from the literal to the
mystical. Specifically, I divide my talk into five parts. Part one exam-
ines love, marriage, and family at the flesh and blood level, what I
refer to as the root level, beginning with the genealogy of the Gos-
pel of Matthew, and moving to the birth narrative of Jesus and the
figure of Joseph. Part two considers further the birth narrative of
Jesus in Matthew, taking note how the dreams which happen to
Joseph integrate into story narrative the element of spiritual tran-
scendence. Here I will also draw from the story of the dreamer Jo-
seph of Genesis as the precursor to Joseph betrothed to Mary. Part
three explores the notion of disembodiment as a consequence to
what I see to be a preoccupation with spiritual transformation in
the stories around family in Matthew in relation to Genesis (one
cannot be experienced and read without the other). This section
includes a consideration of the meanings of ‘love’ used by New
Testament writers and how physical love, eros, finds no place. Part
four focuses upon Paul who as one possessed and taken up by the
God understands love, marriage, and family in the same way. Paul
actually refers to himself as aggelon theou (‘an angel of god’), and in
15
16 JEFFREY B. PETTIS
Galatians 3.26 Paul speaks of Christians being children of God

(huioi theou), adopted as heirs of the divine. Family becomes specifi-
cally defined in transcendent terms, and in Christ there is no male
or female (Gal. 3.28). Here also Marcion’s 2nd century teachings
against marriage also receives attention. Against this backdrop
there are the household codes which occur, it would seem, to root
marriage in the down-to-earth, day-to-day life. Part five the final
section, looks at chastity and virginity as alternatives to love, family,
marriage, and family in the New Testament.
1. MT. 1.1–25 LOVE, MARRIAGE, FAMILY AT THE ROOT

LEVEL
I cannot think of a better place to begin a discussion on love, mar-
riage and family in the New Testament than the Gospel of Mat-
thew. The genealogy of Matthew concentrates a family history,
each generation embodying life-stories from Abraham, Isaac,
Tamar, Jacob to Joseph the father of Jesus. These are the fourteen
generations, from Abraham to David, and fourteen from David to
the deportation to Babylon, and fourteen then to the birth of
Christ. Separately and together these families constitute the narra-
tive web of the people of God, the author(s) of Matthew, it seems,
making it clear that family and marriage are the very material by
which the God of Israel is known and experienced. In this way the
author of Matthew begins his Gospel in the blood of the people. In
the Gospel of Matthew God becomes manifest within and through
the earth-realm. God is to be found in relation to the physicality of
life and death. Compare this to the Gospel of John which, in oppo-
site fashion, starts high with the Logos descending into the world
below to take on flesh. For the most part, the genealogy of the
Gospel of Matthew represents stories and storylines which consti-
tute how it is much of the world understands love and marriage
and family. Two people meet and enter into relationship and have
children. Flesh and blood is the stuff of life-narrative and makes
precisely the content tightly bound in texts like Matthew chapter
one.
Focus changes however from the collective in beginning of
Matthew’s first chapter to a specific family in Mt. 1.18–25. Accord-
ing to the text, a certain Joseph is engaged be married to Mary the
mother of Jesus. Joseph appears on the scene as one ‘being right-
eous’ (dikaios) (1.19) and one who thinks deeply (enthumethentos)
LOVE, MARRIAGE, AND FAMILY IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 17
(1.20). He is betrothed to Mary and she is pregnant, although he

had nothing to do with it. The text says that he wants to ‘loose her’
(apolusai) quietly. It is my sense that Joseph here represents for the
authors of Matthew the ideal person, one who is faithful to the
Lord and one who lives out righteousness through the deeper place
and concern for others. He is portrayed as one who reflects on
things, who does not set out to retaliate but rather to protect Mary
despite how things appear. I think this is exactly the kind of person
the Jesus of the Gospel of Matthew has in mind as an example of
the Jewish-Christian faith in the day-to-day life. It is something
Jesus spends much time on and flushes out (issues like adultery,
divorce, anger, etc.) in the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5–7). This
mixture of doing righteousness and thinking deeply makes Joseph,
the intended husband of Mary, a prime candidate for seeing the
God.
2. MT. 1.18–25 LOVE, MARRIAGE, FAMILY AND

DREAMING: POTENT COMBINATION
Very quickly the account on family in Matthew chapters 1–2 fol-
lowing the genealogy becomes shot through with the transcendent.
It is only here in the New Testament Gospels that we get a series
of dream encounters and the appearances of aggelon tou kuriou, the
angel of the Lord, and it is precisely to Joseph son of Jacob (Mt.
1.16) that these dreams occur. The angel manifests in the dream
and speaks: ‘Do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for in her
womb a child has been conceived by the Holy Spirit. But take the
child and name him Jesus, for he will save the people from their
sins’ (1.20–21).
That a man named Joseph receives this and other dream reve-
lations probably comes as no surprise for the Matthean community
hearing this story. Another family story focuses around the story of
one who is also named Joseph in the Book of Genesis chapters 37–
47. This Joseph is the son of Jacob and Rachel. Like Joseph of the
Gospel of Matthew, the Joseph of Genesis was also a dreamer, and
his dreaming is significant and life-orienting just like the dreams of
Joseph in Matthew. 1 Genesis 37 relates how Joseph’s own brothers

once hearing the dreamer tell his dreams plot to kill him, and how
they throw him into a pit. As that story goes through the rest of the
book, Joseph’s dreams about rising sheaves and being worshipped
actually do come true. His brothers who circled round to look
down upon him in the earth pit will eventually come to circle again,
now gazing upward at him as one who has ascended into more
rarified realms as a governor of Egypt. Joseph of Genesis exists as
the dreamer and interpreter of higher, transcendent things.
Similarly, the dream(s) of Joseph of Matthew will also become
concrete in the waking world. As instructed by the angel in the
dream, Joseph takes Mary as his wife. The child is born and Joseph
names the child Jesus, the one who will save the people from sin
(1.24–25). In both cases dreams and the transcendent mix with
love, marriage and family. Healing, new life, and new creation di-
1 ‘This is the history of the family of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen

years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was a lad with
the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father's wives; and Joseph brought an ill
report of them to their father. Now Israel loved Joseph more than any
other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he made
him a long robe with sleeves. But when his brothers saw that their father
loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak
peaceably to him. Now Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his
brothers they only hated him the more. He said to them, ‘Hear this dream
which I have dreamed: behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and
lo, my sheaf arose and stood upright; and behold, your sheaves gathered
round it, and bowed down to my sheaf.’ His brothers said to him, ‘Are
you indeed to reign over us? Or are you indeed to have dominion over
us?’ So they hated him yet more for his dreams and for his words. Then
he dreamed another dream, and told it to his brothers, and said, ‘Behold, I
have dreamed another dream; and behold, the sun, the moon, and eleven
stars were bowing down to me.’ But when he told it to his father and to
his brothers, his father rebuked him, and said to him, ‘What is this dream
that you have dreamed? Shall I and your mother and your brothers indeed
come to bow ourselves to the ground before you?’ And his brothers were
jealous of him, but his father kept the saying in mind’ (Gen.’ 37.2–11).
(RSV).
rectly result. Family becomes renewed and restored. Joseph and his
brothers and father will be reunited. Mary and the child and the
father will be a family after all. Marriages are made. Children are
born and given names. Dreams appear in large ways and regenera-
tion involves something powerful and impressionable: Joseph
transforms through his dreaming and earth pit journey from a tat-
tling child to a governor of Egypt and mediator of his family. Jo-
seph of the Gospel of Matthew is betrothed to Mary and through
his dreaming becomes a significant medium and enabler of the
family’s survival and well-being, this ensuring the life of the child,
the life of the people. The mixture of the high and the low, of
dreams and flesh and blood yields the potent life-giving creation.
3. MT. 1.18–25 LOVE, MARRIAGE, FAMILY:

DISEMBODIMENT AND RISING
At the same time that I see this co-union of the spirit/dream world
and the material realm making the new creation, I see another sig-
nificant and powerful movement happening subsequent to or per-
haps in the midst of regeneration. There is preoccupation with spir-
itual things at the expense of flesh and materiality. My concern, if I
might put it in such terms, is what I see already in the first chapter
of the Gospel of Matthew: a loss of embodiment. The blood of the
people of the generations begins quickly to thin as story narrative
develops around dreams and angels.
Here going to Genesis 37ff again informs the reading of Mat-
thew’s birth narrative. The authors of Matthew could not have
been more savvy in choosing a figure in Genesis whose bloody
coat shown to the father Jacob is all that remains of his son Joseph.
By all appearances wild beasts have consumed him. However, pos-
sessed by his dreaming, he has very much ascended into higher
realms and callings. (Compare Jesus whose bloody clothes made by
the claws of the mob and the deadly jaws of Rome are also shed
and left behind as a sign of his rising.) It seems to me that one of
the main points of the Genesis accounts through many chapters is
that the figure of Joseph the dreamer cannot be kept down. He
seems as if to rise out of the earthen pit dug by his brothers, to
ascend out of the darknesses of the prison, and to dwell in the rare-
fied places to which his dreams have brought and made him. Jo-
seph becomes less and less part of and bound to earth. At the same
time, in the process of his ascending, his brothers of the earthen
field and the diggers of graves along with the keepers of the prisons
do not rise. They are too heavy, it seems, too enfleshed to have
fluidity. Spirit and dreams seem not able to penetrate them, and in
the story they are left behind for what must become a larger re-
demption.
The Joseph of Matthew takes on the same bodiless quality.
Even with all the narrative spotlight he receives, Joseph lacks phys-
ical substance. He is spoken to by the angel but he himself says
little, and when the angel tells him to do something, he does exactly
what he is told to do. An example of faith, Joseph at the same time
seems to have no voice or weight of his own. Has he become
claimed/possessed by the god, somehow void of the ability or de-
sire to engage? After the birth narrative Joseph will then disappear
as if to blend into thin air.
The notion of spiritual disembodiment also occurs in the
Gospel of Matthew in relation to Mary, Jesus’ mother. Her figure
in the story is anemic. It has little narrative substance. The author
mentions her by name a couple of times, and says nothing more. I
should like to know more. What does she have to say about her
pregnancy? What kind of emotion does she experience with regard
to the conception which has happened in her body? Fortunately we
have the author of the Gospel of Luke, written for a much differ-
ent audience, who steps in, so to speak, to embody Mary as the
pregnant virgin Theotokos who manifests just what she thinks and
how she feels in the words she says and the songs she sings.
There is also the absence of any statement of love between
the couple in the story. The text says that they are betrothed, but
nothing more. It may be, as often was the case, that the relation-
ship was understood by hearers to be pre-arranged. In fact, there is
no reference to flesh and blood love – eros – in the Gospel of Mat-
thew or anywhere else in the New Testament. The word eros is not
used by the New Testament writers, unlike the Jewish Scriptures
which do refer to physical love, ahb, although not always in a posi-
tive way. In Genesis, Sheckhem the Prince is drawn to Dinah the
daughter of Jacob. Sheckhem ‘loved and spoke tenderly to the
maiden’ but only after he seized her and lay with her and humbled
her’ (34.2–3). There is also Amnon the son of David who with
force made love to Tamar his sister (2 Sam. 13.14–15). Passion also
marks the book of Hosea, where love and marriage are connected
to the faithlessness of Israel who chases after other gods.
In the New Testament the words agape and philia are used to
connote love. Philia references friendship. Agape has the meaning
of warm affection and regard for another person. This is the more
profound love in its connection with sacrifice and the divine.
Agape is what Paul refers to as the greater of the three Christian
pillars faith, hope and love (1Cor. 13.13), and in the Gospel of
Mark 12.30–31 Jesus instructs followers to love (agapeseis) your
Lord God with all of your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and your
neighbor as yourself. In Ephesians 5.25 the author says that hus-
bands are to agapate their wives as Christ loved the church and gave
himself up for her (cf. Col. 3.18–21). The text goes on to tell hus-
bands to love their wives as they love their own bodies, and the
two male and female to become one flesh (Eph. 5.31; Gen. 2.24).
The stress here lies on monogamy, something which is not neces-
sarily practiced by the Jewish patriarchs. 2 In Ephesians the author
also says that this joining of husband and wife occurs as a mysterion
mega, ‘great mystery’ and that it refers to Christ and the church
(5.32). It is as if the author wants to make sure or cannot help but
to keep language high and away from the primal instinctive in hu-
man relationship. Words like cleansing and washing (5.26) and be-
ing spotless (5.27) tilt marriage imagery heavenward toward the
purer realms away from the physical realm and always in the con-
text of the divine and godliness. For these authors love, marriage
and family are patterned after Christ’s marriage to the church. They
are cast in mystical terms. See how far and quickly we have come
from the flesh and blood relationships of Matthew’s genealogy.
In the narrative which follows the conception of Jesus in Mat-
thew, the family seems to have less and less grounding and more
and more transcendence in the wake of dreams and angels and di-
vine instructions. Like Joseph of Genesis this Joseph of the first
Gospel along with his family become hard to hold down. They
pheuge, ‘take flight’ into Egypt (2.13). Additional dreams and angel
appearances will come to Joseph to tell him in exact instructions
2Jacob, for example, is given both Leah and Rachel for wives (Gen.
29.15–30). The patriarchs also take concubines when a wife has difficulty
conceiving. Consider Hagar the Egyptian maid given by Sarah to her hus-
band Abram and bears him Ishmael (Gen. 16.1–16).
what to do so not to be overtaken by the headhunting Herodians

(2.13). It is as if the family gets ‘caught up’ in the transcendent,
something evidenced in the writings of Ignatius of Antioch who
gives mystical interpretation of the church, elders, deacons, and
laity gathered into a kind of spiritual union centered around the
bishop. 3 In the Matthean birth narrative the magi from the Occult
also receive warning through dreaming and they too are on the
move and take flight (2.12). The cosmos in Matthew’s birth narra-
tive has a direct part in the events as the aster (2.9) in the east leads
the magi to the correct location to see the child. The magi rejoice
great joy vehemently (sphodra) (2.10), there being an awakening of
consciousness which more and more breaks through to possesses
story narrative. Even Herod in his disturbance (estaraxthe) (2.3) and
intense scrutiny (2.7–8) evidences a keenness of awareness and an-
imation.
4. PAUL: TRANSFORMATION INTO DIVINE CHILDREN

The idea of being caught up is certainly part of Paul’s experiences.
Paul’s seeing the god is something which happens to him. In Acts
he is come upon – taken by surprise and thrown to the ground by
the divine. ‘Rise and enter the city,’ he is told (Acts 9.6). 4 The no-
tion of transcendence and of being taken up is even more pro-
nounced in 2 Corinthians 12 where Paul speaks of one being
‘grasped’ (harpagenta) into the third heaven. Paul's encounters make
3 The Christian martyr Ignatius of Antioch begins his Epistle to the

Ephesians by singing the praises of Onisimus, the bishop (episkopos) of the
Ephesian church and one who is of ‘inexpressible love’ (I.3). Members are
to live in harmony (homonoia) with the will of the bishop after the example
of ‘your justly famous presbytery . . . attuned to the bishop as the strings
to a harp’ (IV.1). In his Epistle to Polycarp, bishop of the church in Smyrna,
Ignatius gives specific attention to the role and duties of the office of
bishop. He refers to Polycarp’s godly mind which is ‘fixed as if on an im-
movable rock’ (I.1), and he exhorts him to press forward to urge all per-
sons that they should be saved.
4 The text makes it very clear: ‘This one is a chosen instrument to
me … I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my
name’ (Acts 9.15–16).
a permanent, lasting impression upon him. 5 Seeing the god hap-

pens to such an extent that Paul says that Christ ‘lives in me’ (Gal.
1.20). He speaks as one who has become possessed. Paul speaks of
actually becoming the god himself, as if his encountering occurs a
part of a process of being made into the divine substance. ‘We …
are being changed into his likeness by one degree of glory to an-
other,’ he writes (2 Cor. 3.18; cf. Moses in Ex. 34–35). Elsewhere,
Paul actually refers to himself as aggelon theou (‘an angel of god’), 6
and in Galatians 6.4–7 Paul speaks of becoming ‘sons’/children of
God, adopted as heirs of the divine. Here family becomes specifi-
cally defined in transcendent terms, and as Alan Segal notes, the
language of Paul refers to genderless beings.
The term ‘son of God’ is without sexual implication, a com-
mon gender, and it has throughout Jewish tradition denoted
angels. Through baptism, this passage says explicitly, the Chris-
tian overcomes the antinomies of ordinary life, including the
gender distinction, to become children of God – angels. To be
an angel in this context means to have transcended flesh and
gender. 7
Paul makes it clear in Gal. 3.28 that in Christ there is no male or
female (ouk arsen kai thelu) so there occurs what is perceived and
experienced to be a transforming into something new and quite
5 ‘But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.
Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of
knowing Christ Jesus my Lord’ (Phil. 3.7–8).
6 Gal. 4.14. There is then the blurring, if not breakdown, of bounda-
ry between human and divine. To me this makes Paul and his appeal irre-
sistible before the Gentiles and the Hellenistic world. Like Paul, the pagan
world inclined toward seeing the god as being viable, present, and embod-
ied. Athena is seen and worshiped through her statue residing in the tem-
ple, and emperors are perceived by the populace to be gods incarnate. See
‘Seeing the God in the Greco-Roman World’ in Seeing the God: Ways of
Envisioning the Divine in Ancient Mediterranean Religion, Jeffrey B. Pettis ed.
(Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2013), 19–41.
7 Alan Segal, Life After Death: A History of the Afterlife in the Religions of
the West (New York: Doubleday, 2004), 432.

different from human instinctive life. It is as if the supreme oppo-

sites of male and female (Chinese yang and yin) melt together to
become one, pure, incorruptible union – this the hierosgamos or
‘chymical wedding.’ 8 This process of change, what C.G. Jung refers
to as the compulsion for symbol and the ‘canalizing into spiritual
form,’ 9 begins according to Paul at baptism and ends at the escha-
ton. ‘I tell you this, brothers and sisters: flesh and blood (sarx kai
haima) cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable
inherit the imperishable. Lo! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all
sleep, but we shall all be changed’ (1 Cor. 15.50–51). 10 In the Gos-
pel of Luke it appears that this process of transformation is both
known and clearly stated by Jesus:
The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage; but those
who are accounted worthy to attain to that age and to the res-
urrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in mar-
riage, for they cannot die any more, because they are equal to
angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrec-
tion. (Luke 20.34–36)
8 C.G. Jung, Psychology and Alchemy, translated by R.F.C. Hull (Prince-

ton: Princeton University Press, 1968), 37.
9 C.G. Jung, Symbols of Transformation, translated by R.F.C. Hull
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1956), 226.

10 ‘Lo! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be
changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For

the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we
shall be changed. For this perishable nature must put on the imperishable,
and this mortal nature must put on immortality. When the perishable puts
on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come
to pass the saying that is written: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory. O
death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?’ The sting of
death is sin and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who
gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved
brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the
Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain’ (1 Cor. 15.51–
58).
In light of the impending resurrection, Christian humanity in its

transfiguring and ascending is changing into something more than
flesh and blood. Marriage and family at the root level is, like Jo-
seph’s coat, becoming shed as part of transformative process.
Marriage thus becomes elusive, if not unnecessary for the
children of God. It seems then that the household codes which
appear in New Testament texts such as 1 Tim. 2.8–15 and Col.
3.18–4.1 11 occur precisely as a counter to the momentum of this
Christian divinizing of marriage and as a means to pin down and
make a clear stamp of just what marriage in the flesh and blood
world means. The hierarchal ordering of roles and relations of hus-
band, wives, and children, reflective of Roman society, makes still
and cuts through (momentarily?) the momentum of this pneumatic
updraft which has in its grips people like Paul and, it would seem,
Christian groups like that of the Gospel of Matthew. The apparent
tension between the earth-bound codes of 1 Tim. 2.8–15 on the
one hand and the mystical transforming of Christian love, marriage,
11 ‘I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy
hands without anger or quarreling; also that women should adorn them-
selves modestly and sensibly in seemly apparel, not with braided hair or
gold or pearls or costly attire but by good deeds, as befits women who
profess religion. Let a woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I
permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep
silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived,
but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet woman will
be saved through bearing children, if she continues in faith and love and
holiness, with modesty’ (1 Tim. 2.8–15); ‘Wives, be subject to your hus-
bands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be
harsh with them. Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleas-
es the Lord. Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become dis-
couraged. Slaves, obey in everything those who are your earthly masters,
not with eye service, as men-pleasers, but in singleness of heart, fearing
the Lord. Whatever your task, work heartily, as serving the Lord and not
men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your
reward; you are serving the Lord Christ. For the wrongdoer will be paid
back for the wrong he has done, and there is no partiality’ (Col. 3.18–25).
See also Eph. 5.21–6.9; Titus 2.1–10; 1 Pt. 2.18–3.7.
and family on the other hand raises questions. Just how permanent
did writers of these household codes see the prescripts to be? Do
codes of marriage and family occur merely as a temporary holding
pattern, a fixation in the wake of Jewish-apocalyptic anticipations
of the end-time? On the other hand, do these clear definitions
about marriage relations reveal a necessary releasing from the no-
tion of eschaton (Jesus still has yet to return) and the subsequent
demand for becoming grounded to survive within and as part of
the literal Roman world? Ancient sources relate just how difficult it
can be for a family to exist in this world. One epitaph of a woman
married at age 11 reads:
Here I lie, a matron named Veturia. My father was Veturius.
My husband was Fortunatus. I lived for twenty-seven years,
and I was married for sixteen years to the same man. After I
gave birth to six children, only one of whom is still alive, I
died. 12
In the world of the New Testament about 1/3 of infants died be-
fore reaching 28 months, and ½ before 8 years died to epidemic
and famine. Few people knew both grandparents. 13 Babies were
routinely exposed, and women often died in childbirth. The house-
hold codes, it seems to me, provide rather definitive values and
practices in order to assure love, marriage and family in a harsh
world where the odds for survival, let alone longevity, are less fa-
vorably than ours today. They are a reminder that the New Testa-
ment books and letters were written not for you and me but for the
people and immediate circumstances of those who wrote them.
Regardless, the household codes by their very nature empha-
sized and confirmed love, marriage, and family amidst an increasing
early Christian preoccupation with the ascetic lifestyle. By the sec-
ond and third centuries some heretical groups said that marriage
12Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum 3.3572. See Jo-Ann Shelton, As the

Romans Did: A Sourcebook in Roman Social History, 2d ed. (New York and
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 290.
13 Robin Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians (San Francisco: Harper &
Row, 1986), 47.

was Satanic, connecting it with an inferior Creator. 14 Followers of

the 2nd century Christian convert Marcion spoke of the body as a
‘nest of guilt,’ and Marcion’s notions of Christianity, which includ-
ed a rejection of marriage, attracted followers especially in the Syri-
ac-speaking East far into the fourth century. 15 By contrast, the au-
thor of the Epistle to the Hebrews makes it a point to defend mar-
riage even at its physical level: ‘Let marriage be held in honor
among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled; for God will
judge the immoral and adulterous’ (Heb. 13.4). There is also the
Gospel of John where Jesus makes sure the wedding celebration
continues by making wine out of water. Consider too the author of
Acts who affirms love, marriage, and family in the example of Cor-
nelius and his whole household. Interestingly, even here reference
is made to ascent, the angel in the dazzling coat (estheti lampra Acts
10.30) appearing in a dream of Cornelius telling him that Cornelius’
prayers and alms-giving ‘rose into memory (anebesan eis mnemosunon)
before God’ (Acts 10.4).
5. CHASTITY AND VIRGINITY

Given the risks, confines, and harsh realities come with marriage in
the ancient world, there was another route one might take. Chastity
and virginity occurred as alternatives to marriage. ‘Marriage to
Christ’ allowed escape from the high risk of mother and child mor-
tality. In the New Testament there are clear, positive references to
the pure life. In Mt. 19.12 Jesus commends eunuchs for the sake of
the kingdom, and in 1 Cor. 7.7 Paul advocates the ascetic lifestyle
which is his own: ‘I wish that all were as I myself am.’ In his Pagans
and Christians Robin Lane Fox notes that through virginity or chas-
tity Christians sought to come into the state of spiritual being. Fox
notes how chaste, pure lifestyles were perceived by early Christians
to reverse the Fall which occurred through the ‘error’ of Adam and
Eve. There was then a return to the sexless state of humanity in
early Creation. 16 In the New Testament the virginity of Mary the
14 Robin Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians, 358.

15 Robin Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians, 332, 358.
16 Robin Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians, 366.
Mother of Jesus is clearly stated in Mt. 1.20–23, 25 and Lk. 1.27,

and it is at the core of the 2nd century Infancy Gospel of James.
Add to this the author of the Book of Revelation who sees thou-
sands of virgins standing with the Lamb on mount Zion:
Then I looked, and lo, on Mount Zion stood the Lamb, and
with him a hundred and forty-four thousand who had his
name and his Father's name written on their foreheads. And I
heard a voice from heaven like the sound of many waters and
like the sound of loud thunder; the voice I heard was like the
sound of harpers playing on their harps, and they sing a new
song before the throne and before the four living creatures and
before the elders. No one could learn that song except the
hundred and forty-four thousand who had been redeemed
from the earth. It is these who have not defiled themselves
with women (hoi meta gunaikon ouk emolunthesan), for they are
chaste (parthenon); it is these who follow the Lamb wherever he
goes; these have been redeemed from humankind as first fruits
for God and the Lamb, and in their mouth no lie was found,
for they are spotless. (Rev. 14.1–5) 17
The word egorasthesan, here under-translated in the RSV as ‘re-
deemed,’ means ‘to be acquired.’ This scene of Christians having
been acquired into a rarer form and existence is telling of what is
the heightened New Testament and early Christian no-
tion/experience of being ‘taken up’ and transforming. It is what
C.G. Jung refers to as the spiritual instinctive coming forth, and
what E.R. Dodds sees to be a reaction to a radical disassociation
with the material world as an independent principle and the source
of evil. 18 Perhaps this gathering of upward force and change
through dreams and callings, voices heard and new worlds seen is
come from a great sense of anticipation of something new and
more to be realized in the coming of the Son of Man. It is some-
17 Cf. Mt. 15.1–12 the Parable of the Ten Virgins (deka parthenois).
18 E.R. Dodds, Pagan and Christian in an Age of Anxiety: Some Aspects of
Religious Experience from Marcus Aurelius to Constantine. Cambridge: Cam-
bridge University Press; Reprint edition, 1991, 14.
where within this matrix of human desire that love, family and mar-
riage finds its Christian meanings.
THE SACRAMENT OF MARRIAGE AND
UNION WITH GOD
DR. BRUCE BECK

INTRODUCTION
I became interested in the topic of Orthodox Christian marriage
seven years ago in a very personal way. Like a novice hiker who all
of sudden becomes intensely ‘interested’ in a compass and a map
when she suddenly realizes she is lost and darkness is quickly fall-
ing, I became intensely focused on learning about marriage when I
found myself in dire straits with my own marriage. This particular
turning point for me came in our marriage when my wife Kimber-
ley and I had already been married 11 years and our daughter
Christina was four years old; further, since we had both come to
the Orthodox faith after we had been married in an Episcopal
wedding service, we had just a year before celebrated our marriage
through the service of crowning in the Orthodox Church.
My wake up call came on March 29, 1999. On this particular
morning, as I was on my way out the door for work, Kimberley
said casually that her mother was coming up for lunch that day. I
asked why she was coming up, since it was a weekday. Kimberley
then, calmly yet sadly, said, ‘just as she does every year, my mom is
taking me out for lunch on my birthday.’ With these words I
dropped my bags, ran into my study, closing the door, and wept.
Emotions swept over me like that of the prodigal son who woke
up, having come to his senses, and realized how far away he was
from his true home. I realized how far I had gone from my true
home (my spouse), and that I had let everything crowd out the one
person most dear to me.
This was, for me, the bottom of the pit. I realized that I had
been deluding myself in the choices that I had been making in my
31
32 BRUCE BECK
work life, and that I was terribly wrong to expect that our marriage
could stay intact (without nourishment or honor) while all my ef-
forts and focus went on outside of the home with my professional
obligations at the high tech firm that I managed. I had let every-
thing else but her be in focus, so that when her birthday came, it
was as if I could no longer see her, the person whom God had
joined to me as ‘bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh.’ I knew in
my bones then that I was in deep trouble, and that nothing short of
God Himself could get me out this pit into which I dug myself.
With God’s help, and my wife’s mercy, we were led through
this dark time together, but I am still humbled daily by marriage
and raising children; it is the hardest, and by far the best, thing I do.
From this turning point seven years ago, I realized firstly that mar-
riage was not just a natural phenomenon between a man and a
woman who loved each other, but rather was dependent on God to
transform it. I realized second, that I did not know the first thing
about Orthodox marriage, and that I needed to learn what its icon
looked like, by reading whatever I could lay my hands on. And
thirdly, I am still learning that marriage is not a private, family af-
fair, blessed by the church, but rather it is mystically caught up in a
sacramental essence of being the Body of Christ, and is itself the
address at which we daily work out our salvation ‘with fear and
trembling.’
My remarks today will touch on a few of these aspects of what
marriage actually is within the Orthodox faith, that ‘mystery’ which
is Christ and His Church. I will also try to provide images and
theological vocabulary from our Tradition for how our relationship
with our spouse is related to our life in Christ and in His Body the
Church. I hope, as fellow travelers, these remarks will be of help to
some of you as well.
MARRIAGE AS A SACRAMENT
The starting point for talking about Orthodox marriage is to high-
light the fact that it is a Sacrament of the Church. But one could
ask, why, of all the various ‘states’ of human life, is marriage singled
THE SACRAMENT OF MARRIAGE 33
out and understood as a sacrament? 1 If what takes place in a mar-

riage ceremony is simply a divine sanction or blessing, then this
would not make the service of marriage different from any number
of other prayer services of the Church. So what sets the Service of
Crowning apart as a Sacrament of the Church, as opposed to a ser-
vice of blessing?
To answer this question, we need to remind ourselves of what
is at the heart of any sacramental service of the Orthodox Church.
Fr. Alexander Schmemann, of blessed memory, in his wonderful
essay entitled ‘The Mystery of Love’ reminds us that ‘a sacrament
… implies necessarily the idea of transformation, [it] refers to the ul-
timate event of Christ’s death and resurrection, and is always a sac-
rament of the Kingdom … The Church calls sacraments those de-
cisive acts of its life in which this transforming grace is confirmed as
being given, in which the Church through a liturgical act identifies
itself with and becomes the very form of that Gift.’ 2
MARRIAGE AS A NEW CREATION

In the case of marriage, what is transformed, according to Paul Ev-
dokimov in The Sacrament of Love, is love itself. He writes, ‘The mat-
ter of the sacrament is not only a ‘visible sign,’ but the natural sub-
stratum that is changed into the place where the energies of God
are present. In the sacrament of marriage, the matter is the love of
man and woman … The Letter to the Ephesians shows it as essentially
a miniature of the nuptial love of Christ for the Church.’ 3
1 This question begins the essay by Fr. Alexander Schmemann, ‘The

Mystery of Love,’ in his For the Life of the World (Crestwood, NY: St. Vla-
dimir’s Seminary Press, 1973), 81.
2 Ibid, p. 81.
3 Paul Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, trans. A.P. Gythiel and V.
Steadman (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1995), 125.

Also Nicholas Cabasilas described sacraments in the following way: ‘They
are the path which Christ has made for us, the door He has opened … It
is by passing again on this path and through this door that He returns to
the world.’ Nicholas Cabasilas, The Life in Christ, trans C.J. de Catanzaro
(New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1974), p. 66. quoted in Evdo-
kimov, p. 123.
34 BRUCE BECK
Transformation through an explicit liturgical act of the

Church is necessary because marriage, like human kind, is fallen,
and not simply able to be sanctioned or blessed. Like the sacrament
of Baptism, the marriage rite renews and restores human love into
the image or icon of Christ and His Bride, the Church, through His
life, death, resurrection and ascension to heaven. Paul Evdokimov,
again, lyrically writes this icon for us, in the following description
of the icon of marriage: ‘By loving each other the spouses love
God. Every moment of their life rises up like a royal doxology, like
an unending liturgical chant. St. John Chrysostom brings forward
this magnificent conclusion: ‘Marriage is a mysterious icon of the
Church.’ 4
This restoration of nuptial love through the sacrament of mar-
riage is a new creation; just as a catechumen, after having emerged
from the font and having been chrismated, is a new creation, so
too is the newly married couple a new entity in the Kingdom of
God. St. John Chrysostom equates the new creation of the married
couple with the new birth of the children of God according to the
Gospel of John 1:12. St. Chrysostom wrote in Homily XX on Ephe-
sians: ‘This then is marriage when it takes place according to Christ,
spiritual marriage, and spiritual birth, not of blood, nor of travail,
nor of the will of the flesh. Such was the birth of Christ, not of
blood, nor of travail. Such also was that of Isaac. Hear how the
Scripture saith, ‘And it ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of
women.’ (Gen. xviii. 11.) Yea, a marriage it is, not of passion, nor
of the flesh, but wholly spiritual, the soul being united to God by a
union unspeakable, and which He alone knoweth. Therefore he
saith, ‘He that is joined unto the Lord is one spirit.’ (1 Cor. vi. 17.)’ 5
Notice here that the union in the marriage is to God, to be joined
unto the Lord in one Spirit, yet of course he is talking about mar-
riage, so that union with Christ is bound up inextricably and mysti-
cally with the love of the married couple.
4 St. John Chrysostom, Homily 12, Epistle to the Colossians, PG 62.387,

cited by Evdokimov, p. 123.
5 John Chrysostom, Homily 20, Epistle to the Ephesians, cited by Evdo-
kimov, Ibid.
Let me return to what Fr. Alexander Schmemann said about ‘a

sacrament implying necessarily the idea of transformation through the
remembrance and appeal to the redemptive death and resurrection
of Christ by the Body of Christ. This image of the sacrament of
marriage is certainly discernible in the current two part marriage
rite, that of the betrothal and the service of crowning. 6 However, it
would be good to remind ourselves that the rite of marriage prior
to the end of the 9th century was not a separate service, but rather
was an integral part of the Eucharistic celebration. The creation of
a separate service was done at that time in order to preserve the
sanctity of the Eucharist, when the Byzantine empire began using
the church to sanction all civil marriages, regardless of anyone’s
standing within the Church. Prior to its separation, the fulfillment
of marriage by two Christians was their partaking of the Eucharist
together. So, as Baptism and Chrismation received their endpoint
in this central act of the community, that is – the Eucharistic cele-
bration, so too marriage received its fulfillment in the common
Eucharistic cup. As Paul Evdokimov wrote, in the early Church ‘all
the sacraments led to the Eucharist which, through its own full-
ness, completed the testimony of the Church. Such a consensus of
catholicity is an inner realty of the Church. A sacrament is always
an event in the Church, through the Church, and for the Church. It
excludes everything that isolates ecclesial resonance. And thus for
the sacrament of marriage, the husband and wife enter upon the
Eucharistic synaxis in their new married life. The integration with
the Eucharist testifies to the descent of the Spirit and to the gift
received. This is why every sacrament has always been an organic
part of the Eucharistic Liturgy.’ 7 Thus, the sacrament of marriage is
like all sacraments, in that it expresses life in the communal Body
of Christ, and viewed outside of its ecclesial and Eucharistic con-
text, its sacramental nature cannot be understood or, indeed, be
realized. 8
6 Perhaps provide some examples from the marriage service prayers

here.
Evdokimov, The Sacrament of Love, p. 124–125;
7
As Fr. John Meyendorff so clearly stated ‘Outside of the Body,

8
there can be no sacraments,’ including marriage. John Meyendorff. Mar-

36 BRUCE BECK
St. Symeon of Thessaloniki, (d. 1429), wrote about the signifi-

cance of receiving Holy Communion in the marriage rite. He de-
scribed how the couple, if they were prepared for communion and
worthy to receive, would partake of the pre-sanctified communion
cup. He described the scene in the following way: ‘And immediate-
ly (the priest) takes the holy chalice with the Presanctified Gifts,
and exclaims: ‘The Pre-sanctified Holy Things for the Holy people.’
And all respond: ‘One is Holy, One is Lord,’ because the Lord
alone is the sanctification, the peace, and the union of His servants
who are being married. The priest then gives Communion to the
bridal pair, if they are worthy. Indeed, they must be ready to receive
Communion, so that their crowning be a worthy one and their
marriage valid. For Holy Communion is the perfection of every
sacrament and the seal of every mystery. And the Church is right in
preparing the Divine Gifts for the redemption and blessing of the
bridal pair; for Christ Himself, who gave these Gifts and who is the
Gifts, came to the marriage (in Cana of Galilee) to bring to it
peaceful union and control … They must be united before God in
a Church … where God is sacramentally present in the Gifts,
where He is being offered to us, and where He is seen in the midst
of us.’ 9
But today, in the typical practice of the marriage ceremony in
America, it is much more difficult to see this full sacramental es-
sence of marriage, since many of the connections between marriage
and the Church have been cut, or at least occluded. The marriage
rite itself is cut off from its original setting within the framework of
the Eucharistic Celebration. 10 What was caused by an historical
riage: An Orthodox Perspective (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary

Press, 1984), p. 73.
9 St. Symeon of Thessaloniki, Against Heresies and on the Divine Temple,
ch. 282, PG 155.512–513. Referenced from John Chryssavgis, Love, Sexu-

ality, and Marriage (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1996), p.
82.
10 The common cup at the end of the crowning service is a remnant,
a memory, of the ancient practice of blessing and confirming the marriage

of a Christian couple in the shadow of the common, Eucharistic cup. (is
this true, or did it have a pre-history to the 9th century? Meyendorff (pp
necessity to preserve the sanctity of the Eucharist, has also (now)

helped pave the way to the tendency among today’s Orthodox
weddings of viewing the marriage rite as a private, family affair,
sanctioned by the priest, rather than an integral manifestation of
the Kingdom by the whole community. While there would be
many complexities involved in restoring the marriage rite within its
previous Eucharistic setting, a proposal which Fr. John Meyendorff
made in his book Marriage: An Orthodox Perspective, it will be enough
for us here today to be reminded of this liturgical and theological
tradition, and to make efforts to appropriate the truth of this sac-
rament of the Kingdom for marriage, both in the rite and in mar-
ried life day-to-day. Christ’s transforming presence in the marriage
rite was self evident in the partaking of his Body and Blood by the
whole community, and His sanctifying presence was specifically
and powerfully directed toward the new union of the nuptial cou-
ple in their jointly receiving communion, sanctifying them and
transforming their love for each other into a new creation.
THE REALITIES OF DAY-TO-DAY MARRIED LIFE

Are you saying to yourself about now, ‘the sacrament of marriage
sounds so beautiful and lofty, but who can actually attain it in day-
to-day married life? We are not alone in noticing that the life at
home can be extremely difficult. These realities of married life are
well documented within the writings of the Fathers. 11 I particularly
42–43) makes the recommendation that inclusion of the service of crown-

ing within the Eucharist be duly considered (for first marriages only). Par-
ticularly in America, both weddings and baptisms are no longer per-
formed as acts of the Body of Christ, else the whole parish would be in-
vited to attend such celebrations, but rather as isolated family events per-
formed with the ‘blessing of the Church.’ This distinction may seem sub-
tle, but its implications have proven to be destructive to our understand-
ing of Orthodox marriage. According to Meyendorff (p. 42), both the
Greek Euchologion and the Slavonic Trebnik require that the service be held
‘after the Divine Liturgy,’ while the priest is still ‘standing in the Sanctu-
ary.’
11 For example St. Gregory of Nyssa and John Chrysostom de-
scribed at length the difficulties and hardships inherent in marriage in

38 BRUCE BECK
am attracted to St. John of Krontstadt’s brief description of life at

home from his journal My Life in Christ; he wrote, ‘Watch your-
selves – your passions especially – in your home life, where they
appear freely, like moles in a safe place. Outside our own home,
some of our passions are usually screened by other more decorous
passions, whilst at home there is no possibility of driving away
these black moles that undermine the integrity of our soul.’ 12
For me, these ‘moles’ that pop up everywhere, at any moment,
are often the little things said or done; I mean, for example, my
need for recognition from my wife when I do something well at
home, and, likewise, the need to blame her for when things go
wrong. For example, I might at the beginning of the morning tell
her that I will take care of the dishes left out from the previous
night, but I will likely also add to my offer the phrase, ‘which you
said you would do before we went to bed last night.’ Why do I feel
their respective treatises On Virginity. For example, John Chrysostom,

XXVIII (Paul’s Words about marriage are an exhortation to virginity) says
that Paul was trying to frighten his listeners into not being married, since
‘he increases the tyranny of marriage and makes the servitude appear bur-
densome. For the Lord did not permit a husband to drive his wife from
the house, whereas Paul takes away a man’s authority over his own body
and surrenders dominion over it to his wife; and he ranks a husband lower
than a slave bought with silver.’
Also, St. John Climacus, the abbot of the monastery of St. Katherine
at Sinai, when asked about the differences between the lives of monks and
those in the world, answered: Someone caught up in the affairs of the
world can make progress, if he is determined. But it is not easy. Those
bearing chains can still walk. But they often stumble and are thereby in-
jured. The man who is unmarried and in the world, for all that he may be
burdened, can nevertheless make hast toward the monastic life. But the
married man is like someone chained hand and foot [so when he wants to
run he cannot].’ John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent (Mahwah, NJ:
Paulist Press, 1982), p. 78; the brackets indicate addition by some mss.
versions according to fn. 6 of the translation.
12 John of Krontstadt, My Life in Christ, or Moments of Spiritual Serenity
God (Holy Trinity Publications, 2000), p. 33.

and Contemplation, of Reverent Feeling, of Earnest Self-Amendment and Peace in
the need to add that last part? Why can’t I simply take care of the
dishes silently, and why should I care whether she even notices that
they have been taken care of? Is our service not to be done ‘as to
Christ,’ and not to put points on the board? This is the ‘stuff’ of
marriage to which I am referring. I hope for at least some of you
that this is sounding somewhat familiar. For it is my belief that it’s
not so much in the big decisions or blow out arguments where we
are tested, but it is in every encounter with our spouse, every deci-
sion contemplated, every task done, every word spoken.
Fr. Alkiviades Calivas, a beloved professor emeritus of Litur-
gical Theology at Holy Cross Seminary, addressed head on this di-
lemma about living out the sacramental life of marriage in our daily
lives. He wrote in his article ‘The Sacrament of Love and Com-
munion;’ that this lofty vision of marriage could rightly be discard-
ed as unattainable ‘were it not for our faith that Christians are a
new creation, … and are called to manifest the fruits of the Spirit
… Marriage in the Lord cannot be viewed or understood apart
from the new life in Christ. The nuptial union, like the whole of the
Christian life, is placed into the realm of grace, into that power
which flows from God and his Kingdom.’ 13 Thus marriage as a
sacrament manifests the new reality of the grace filled new creation,
giving us a vision of what we are to be in the Kingdom, and yet
daily we find that we must offer our will to God, and ask for the
indwelling of the Holy Spirit, in order for our new nature to be in
fleshed. In other words, the grace imparted in the sacrament of
marriage participates in the same mysterious dynamics and effort
on our part as our entire Christian lives, what we sometimes refer
to as Theosis. In marriage, though, the location of where we work
out our salvation with fear and trembling is now known, it is in the
face of our God-joined spouse.
13 Calivas, Alkiviadis C., ‘Marriage: The Sacrament of Love and

Communion’, in: Intermarriage: Orthodox Perspectives, ed. Anton C. Vrame
(Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1997), p. 36.
40 BRUCE BECK
MARRIAGE AS VOCATION – THE LOCUS OF OUR

SALVATION
How should we then think about the relationship between our
home and our so-called ‘spiritual lives’, or our liturgical lives. Is
there a language that we can use to describe ‘home’ in ways that
can help stem the overwhelming tide in this country of isolationism
and the need to separate between one’s private, family life and our
public /professional lives.
A LITTLE CHURCH
I think we can begin by rediscovering what St. John Chrysostom
meant when he called the home ‘the little church.’ 14 While this
phrase is frequently quoted recently as more attention has been
given to the home and the family within our archdiocese, it is im-
portant for our purposes here to understand what this phrase
‘small church’ meant within the specific context of Homily XX on
Ephesians. St. John is not talking about bringing the prayers and
icons of the church into the home, thus making it into a ‘miniature
version’ of the ‘big church;’ nor is he talking specifically about
Christian formation of our children in the home; (although he does
use a similar expression in other contexts to express such a con-
cept). Here the ‘little church’ is not cast in the position of being
derived from the big church, but rather this ‘little church’ signifies
the ‘first church’ or the ‘priority one’ church; for immediately prior
to his comment about the small church, St. John states, ‘If we thus
regulate our own houses, we shall be also fit for the management
of the Church.’ 15 That is, first be faithful at home, then be involved
in ministry at the church. The meaning here of the word ‘little’
means ‘first things first’, in the same way as it does in the saying of
Jesus about the talents distributed to the three servants by their
14 St. John Chrysostom, Homily 20, Ephesians; similarly in Homily 26

On the Book of Acts, Chrysostom writes, ‘Let the house be a Church, con-
sisting of men and women … ‘For where the two,’ He saith, ‘are gathered
together in My Name, there am I in the midst of them.’
15 Likewise, the sentence following this phrase states, ‘Thus it is pos-
sible for us by becoming good husbands and wives, to surpass all others.’
master (Mat 25:14–30). Here, as you know, the master, upon find-
ing that the first servant made use of the 5 talents and doubled it to
10, pronounced his approval saying ‘Well done, good and trustwor-
thy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you
in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.' Like-
wise, we find in I Timothy 3 Paul’s instructions for the qualifica-
tions for an overseer in the Church; that he must also ‘manage his
own household well, keeping his children submissive and respectful
in every way – for if someone does not know how to manage his
own household, how can he take care of God's church? (I Tim 3:4–
5).’ 16 The implications of this understanding of our homes and
married relationship are quite significant if we let them sink in. Not
only is our home-life related to our churchly and spiritual life, but it
is the primary location where we work out our salvation with fear
and trembling. We will look now at how Christ becomes present in
our homes and transforms our marriages well after the rite of mar-
riage is celebrated.
THE PROCESSION FROM CHURCH TO HOME

One of most beautiful and memorable moments in the Orthodox
marriage rite is when the priest, in the place of Christ, joins the
couples hands together and leads them around the table three
times. In antiquity, this procession around the table would have
been an actual procession of all the people out of the sanctuary to
the new home of the married couple, thus making a physical, hu-
man chain or bond between the sacramental rite of marriage and
the home, and instantiating Christ into their midst in their ‘little
church.’ 17 St. John Chrysostom emphasizes the benefits of having
Christ Himself accompany the couple in the wedding and into their
new home, while also criticizing the bawdy revelry of his day at
16 See also Chryssavgis, Love, p. 22 on the responsibility of the cou-

ple ‘to establish a domestic church, a church at home (kat’ oikon ekklesia),
foreshadowing the heavenly Kingdom.’ He writes, ‘The Christian family is
not a nucleus but a cell in the inclusive Body of Christ. It is an opening
and opportunity for self-transcendence within the communion of saints.’
17 Notes from conversation with Fr. Calivas (July 7, 2006).
42 BRUCE BECK
wedding parties. He says in his Homily XII on Colossians: ‘If you

drive away these other things [i.e., inappropriate revelry], Christ
Himself will come to your wedding, and where Christ goes, the
angels’ choir follows. If you so desire, He will work for you an even
greater miracle than He worked in Cana: that is, He will transform
(metastesei) the water of your unstable passions in the wine of spir-
itual unity. 18
The three troparia that are chanted during the procession are
found among the prayers of the weekly paraklytiki ochteochos. 19 John
Chrysostom explains the meaning of the crowns saying, ‘Garlands
are wont to be worn on the heads of bridegrooms, as a symbol of
victory, betokening that they approach the marriage bed uncon-
quered by pleasure.’ 20 Furthermore, the crowns manifest the resto-
ration of royal priesthood to the couple (Garden of Eden – Gen 2),
and their bearing witness (martyrs) to the kingdom of God and
asking for the intercessions of the martyrs. In addition to the tro-
paria, the meaning of the crowns can be seen in the Dismissal Pray-
er, wherein the saints Sts Constantine and Helen and Prokopios are
commemorated, corresponding to the royal priesthood and mar-
tyrs. 21 Sts. Constantine and Helen are the first imperial Christians;
Prokopios was martyred July 8, along with his mother (who be-
forehand had betrayed him to the Romans). His name, from the
Greek noun prokopin, means ‘progress,’ which may explain his be-
18 St. John Chrysostom, Homily 12 on Colossians, PG 62.398D. Quot-

ed in David Ford, Women and Men in the Early Church: The Full Views of St.
John Chrysostom (South Canaan, PA: St. Tikhon’s Seminary Press, 1996), p.
61; also see same sermon, p. 80, ‘So when Christ is present at a wedding,
He brings cheerfulness, pleasure, moderation, modesty, sobriety, and
health.’
19 I am grateful to Fr. A.. Calivas who kindly identified and provided
these three sources. 1) rejoice o Isaiah – 9th ode, irmos in 1st plagal tone of
the Thursday matins service; 2) martyrs – apostichon from Monday vespers,
grave tone; 3) glory – apostichon from Sunday vespers, grave tone.
20 Homily 9 on I Tim 3:1.
21 The common thread that unites Sts. Helen and Constantine with
St. Prokopios seems to be the cross of Christ. Both Prokopios and Con-
stantine witnessed an epiphany of the divine cross.
ing chosen for the marriage ceremony; just prior to his being
named in the dismissal prayer, the priest prays that God will grant
to the couple progress in life and faith.
CHRIST IN THE HOME

In another homily of St. John, this one on Acts 12, he again refers
to the house church. This time, his emphasis is on the presence of
Christ amidst the married couple: he writes, ‘Let the house be a
Church, consisting of men and women. For think not because thou
art the only man, or because she is the only woman there, that this
is any hindrance. ‘For where two,’ He saith, ‘are gathered together
in My Name, there am I in the midst of them.’ (Matt. xviii. 20.)
Where Christ is in the midst, there is a great multitude.’ 22
Christ is not only in their midst, but He Himself has joined
them one to another. The priest, in the role of Christ, joins their
hands together for the procession around the table (which as we
have seen, was originally a procession to their home); also, Jesus
said (Matt. xix. 6), what God has joined together, let no person put
asunder.’ Christ is the celebrant of the wedding rite, as well as the
one offered up, in order to manifest the mystery of the Kingdom
through the shared lives of these two have been joined together by
Him. The marriage is to be an icon of Christ and a manifestation of
the Kingdom after the wedding celebration is over; the transfor-
mation of their love offered through the sacrament is to be suste-
nance for the day-to-day love between them forever. This shared
life is an icon of Christ and the Church, or, as Ephesians 5:32 says,
‘this is a great mystery,’ the way that marriage portrays the truth of
Christ’s redemptive love for the Church.
CONCLUSION
In conclusion, we can’t even begin to explore the depths and ex-
panse of God’s tender mercies towards us, especially his conde-
scension towards us in the incarnation of Christ through the The-
otokos, his suffering, death, and resurrection bestowing life to us
who were in the tombs. We stand in awe as we witness his love for
22 John Chrysostom, Homily 26 on Acts.

44 BRUCE BECK
humankind in allowing us to be partakers of his nature through

baptism, and his adoption of us as his children. We are now called
to live out that reality, that new life, and for many of us, the princi-
pal location of where we become partakers of the life in the Spirit
(rather than the works of the flesh) is in ‘little church,’ in the simple
yet all encompassing calling to love one other person as perfectly as
we can, and to share that love both with our children and the
world. The fact that marriage is a sacrament is, as we have seen, a
crucial clue to our understanding of the full scope of what marriage
by Christ really encompasses. In this sacrament of love, the couple
is joined to Christ, through participation in the cup of His Body
and Blood and in their daily offering of themselves to Him, and are
mystically in union with each other. This union is also a mystery, or
as St. John says, ‘unspeakable,’ such that only metaphors and imag-
es can be offered to try to express something beyond words. This
unknowable aspect of the union of the couple, and similarly the
mystery of Christ and the Church, is highlighted in the epistle read-
ing for the marriage rite (Ephesians 5), since this reading provides
three distinct metaphors that describe the love within a marriage;
first, that we should love as Christ loved the Church, as he offered
himself up for her, so too should we for the other), then secondly,
we should love as we love ourselves, then lastly we should love as if
we were doing it unto Christ Himself. All of these metaphors are
trying to express the inexpressible unity that exists between hus-
band and wife, mirroring the love between Christ and His Church,
a unity that in this life lets us take a glimpse of the ultimate unity
that will be realized only in the Kingdom of God, where there is
neither male nor female, and Christ will be all in all. This is why
marriage is a sacrament for the whole Church, for it manifests the
love of God toward us in Christ Jesus, and it manifests (daily) the
possibility of a transformed divine love offered, in this case, be-
tween two people whose crowns God will receive into His King-
dom.
MARRIAGE AND FAMILY:
TRADITIONAL VALUES – MODERN
REALITIES
THEODOR DAMIAN
Values are at the foundation of every choice, attitude and action.
Whether they are material or spiritual, relative or absolute, local or
universal or of any other kind and category, values create a mentali-
ty and a way of being in the world. Besides religion, the family rep-
resents one of the most important values people held in the course
of human history and civilization. Marriage is the stepping stone
for the constitution of the family. In this paper I will explore the
issue of marriage and family in both traditional and modern terms,
with no intention to cover every aspect, and having in mind in par-
ticular the way family and marriage evolved from tradition to mo-
dernity in the Christian civilization.
PRELIMINARIES ON MARRIAGE
Man is a walking mystery, the universe is a mystery, everything is a
mystery, including God’s intervention in the life of the created or-
der. Out of love for His creation and for man’s salvation God or-
ganizes man’s spiritual life in particular, in mysterious ways, yet
concretely and visibly, sometimes instituting structures to be used
like steps to be taken so that man can more easily and more secure-
ly advance on the way to salvation. According to the Orthodox
Tradition these structures are the holy sacraments instituted by Je-
sus Christ and practiced in the Church. One of them is the sacra-
ment of marriage, or matrimony.
According to a simple, classical definition, the sacrament, the-
ologically speaking, is the visible action through which the invisible
divine grace is transmitted to those who are receiving it.
45
46 THEODOR DAMIAN
THE MEANING OF THE SACRAMENT OF MARRIAGE

The Orthodox sacrament of marriage is performed only in the
Church. Those ready to be married come there to seal the vows
they made to each other in front of God, with and through the
Holy Spirit. The service of the sacrament is basically an invocation
of the Holy Spirit to come and strengthen the commitment the
man and the woman made to each other and preserve their mutual
love. It is like the highest possible guarantee for the lasting of the
relationship that the couple could find, as if their own assurances
are not enough, as if no other people and human institutions, not
even the civil marriage, could represent a real guarantee or seal.
In the Orthodox Tradition the order of the service includes
the moment of the crowning of the partners. In that context the
priest uses the following formula: ‘The servant of God (name of
groom) is crowned for (with) the servant of God (name of bride) in
the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit’.
While repeating this three times, each time the name of the groom
is mentioned the priest touches his forehead with the crown, and
when the name of the bride is mentioned he also touches her fore-
head with it, then making the sign of the e cross with the crown in
front of the groom, all this three times. The priest then does exactly
the same thing, starting with the bride and going to the groom.
What is important in this ceremony is the meaning. The
crown symbolizes power, richness and beauty. When the priest says
that the servant of God John is crowned for the servant of God,
Mary (and vice versa) that means that John’s power (all of his abili-
ties, capacities), beauty and richness (all his talents and gifts) are
there for Mary from now on. And Mary’s gifts are there for John.
In other words, each one receives from the other essential features,
power, beauty and richness, and this changes drastically one’s life
by enriching it in surprising ways and creating a new identity. And
if I am a new being thanks to what I receive from someone else,
that generates a whole new attitude towards that person, a way of
being based on gratitude and doxology.
The sense of the crowning becomes even more powerful
when, according to another translation, the formula says not that
the servant of God, John is crowned for the servant of God Mary,
but with the servant of God, Mary and vice versa. In this case John
does not only put his crown (power, beauty, richness) to the service
of Mary, but Mary herself is the crown placed on John’s head.
TRADITIONAL VALUES – MODERN REALITIES 47
Without her he is an ordinary man. Now the crown placed on his

head is Mary herself and it is through her that he becomes extraor-
dinary, with all those gifts, and vice versa.
This is the real meaning of the crowning, the central point in
the order of this service, and if one keeps in mind the fact that the
sacrament of marriage in the Church is the highest type of seal and
guarantee the partners are looking for, that explains clearly the im-
portance of marriage both for the partners in the couple and for
society.
TOWARD DEFINITIONS OF MARRIAGE

There are so many definitions of marriage that it is hard to choose
one or a few. One might have a dilemma when it comes to which
one to choose and why that particular one over the others. Howev-
er, according to one simple definition, ‘marriage is the culturally
approved social relationship for sexual relationships and childbear-
ing.’ 1 In sociological terms, according to the same source, ‘marriage
is the acquisition of a new social role, and the recognition of this
new status by others.’ 2
As Bruce J. Cohen and Terri L. Orbuch explain, essential fea-
tures of marriage, such as patterns and the process of mate selec-
tion differ from culture to culture. Yet, regardless of the cultural
context, marriage brings with it ‘a new social order for the individ-
ual, along with certain expectations regarding behavior, attitudes,
privileges and obligations;’ 3 in other words it brings new values and
norms that greatly impact the life of the individual.
These norms are restrictive in character, and one example is
related to sexual activity. Once married one cannot have the same
sexual relationships as before. According to Ethan Bronner mar-
riage is the locus for sex, and in the US this locus is sanctioned by
law (in 23 states in the US adultery is considered a criminal act as
the law views all legitimate sexual activity within the institution of
Cohen B.J. and Orbuch T.L. Introduction to Sociology. (New York:

1
McGaw-Hill, 1989), p. 104.

2 Cohen and Orbuch. Introduction to Sociology. Ibid.
3 Cohen and Orbuch. Introduction to Sociology. p. 99.
48 THEODOR DAMIAN
marriage. In other states adultery is a misdemeanor or a felony, but

not really prosecuted). 4
When it comes to definitions and meaning, it is interesting to
notice that in Romanian there is an alternative word for ‘marriage’
which is casatorie. The word casatorie derives from casa, which means
house or home. This implies that marriage is basically creating a
home, a new place of belonging. And because the new home is
created by both husband and wife, it is the place where both be-
long as they also belong to each other. This home is a new creation,
a new unit, cradle, nest, social cell in which they invested them-
selves and which bears their mark.
MARRIAGE IN CRISIS: THE CURRENT SITUATION

There are many factors that contribute to the disintegration of mar-
riage in today’s society: relativization of values, secularization,
women’s social and financial emancipation, feminism, changing
views regarding virginity, family roles, divorce, abortion, and oth-
ers. For example commitment which used to be a binding attitude
in marriage seems to be no longer binding. Being married, ‘until
death do us part’ becomes ‘until I don’t like you any more’. The
devaluation of commitment is evident in that today it is commonly
no longer unconditional, but heavily conditional. Even when vows
are exchanged in the Church in the sacramental context of the cer-
emony of marriage and where they are meant to be the foundation
of a new life and lifestyle, often they are often not taken seriously,
they are considered to be part of the ceremony, tragically, meaning-
less, empty words; and the entire sacrament of marriage in such
cases becomes a theater show, performed not because of one’s
faith in God and in His help for the new family, but because it is
nice and solemn and part of how things must be done.
One consequence of the failure to conscientize the real mean-
ing of marriage and the sacramental meaning of the ritual is the
shift from mutual centeredness in the new unit to self-
4 Bronner E. ‘Adultery, an Ancient Crime that Remains on Many

Books.’ The New York Times, vol. CLXII, Nr. 55.956, Thursday, November
15, 2012, p. A12.
centeredness. As Diana Elliott writes, marriage used to be about a

relationship focusing on the satisfaction of being a spouse; now it
is an individualized type of relationship focused on developing
one’s individual sense of self. 5
Women’s emancipation is another phenomenon that has
brought significant changes in the institution of marriage. The fact
that women can get the education they want, which is leading to
jobs and a desire for advancement and more financial stability and
independence, often causes delays in marriage and in some cases
difficulty in getting married at an older age with the implicit suffer-
ing caused by this, 6 sometimes accompanied by the sense of loneli-
ness, depression, and different types of addiction. One good side of
women’s emancipation, among others, consists in the rise of the
sense of women’s personal dignity and self-esteem which has a di-
rect impact on children’s life and family life in general, and has also
led to a different attitude and opportunities in cases of domestic
violence.
The changing view about virginity in Western society is an-
other factor with great impact on marriage. Virginity is no longer a
requirement in the West. That is even more significant since in the
past virginity used to be required from the bride but not from the
groom. 7 Just as virginity is no longer a problem today, divorce is no
longer a stigma. According to current, alarming, statistics, one in
two marriages ends in divorce 8 for reasons that vary from high ex-
pectations, infidelity (loss of physical attraction for one partner),
lack of communication to incompatibility (physical or mental), low
tolerance and lack of commitment. Yet, although divorce is consid-
5 Elliott D., et.al. ‘Historical Marriage Trends from 1890–2010: A

focus on Race Differences.’ paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the
Population Association of America, San Francisco, CA, May 3–5, 2012,
(www.census.gov/hhes/socdemo/marriage/data/acs/), pp. 2–3.
6 Delaturnu S. ‘Suferinta tinerelor ce nu reusesc sa se casatoreasca.’
Altarul reintregirii, year XVII, Nr. 1, January-April, 2012, p.49.

7 Skolnick A.S. and Jerome H.S. Family in Transition. 13th edition.
(Boston & New York: Pearson, 2005), p. 1.

8 ‘Why Are So Many People Getting Divorced?’
(http://www.eromance.com/relationships/breaking-up-103.html)
50 THEODOR DAMIAN
ered to be an epidemic in our society, according to Arlene and Je-

rome Skolnick, the institution of marriage is still very respected:
‘about 90 percent of Americans marry at some point in their lives,’
they write. 9
So, to the question: is marriage getting deinstitutionalized? Or
is it becoming a failing or obsolete institution? The response is, of
course, yes and no, it depends on definitions and perspectives.
However, Diana Elliott shows that in 2010 39 percent of Ameri-
cans considered marriage to be obsolete. 10 Other statistics on mar-
riage in the US indicated that over half of all people aged 15 and
over were married (in 2000), more precisely 54 percent, with the
Asians having the lowest proportion of divorces and separations,
and 46 percent were single (27 percent who never married and 19
percent who were widowed, divorced or separated). 11
MARRIAGE AND HOMO TECHNO-SAPIENS

One major issue that significantly affects the understanding and the
evolution of the institution of marriage is related to bio-technology,
such as pre-natal and neo-natal screening and monitoring, selective
abortion, assisted reproduction and reproductive technologies, pre-
implantation genetic diagnosis (PGD), gene therapy and others. 12
As we live in a success oriented society, focused on people’s use-
fulness, achieve-ment and performance, those technologies and
tendencies are meant to produce ‘perfect’ children in the name of
advancement and progress.
Proponents of these types of interventions in human devel-
opment like the new eugenics, for instance, believe that by using
them the parents will have the chance to select the best endowed
9 Skolnick A.S. Family in Transition. p. 2.

10 Elliott D., ‘Historical Marriage Trends….’ pp. 2–3.
11 Kreider R.M. and Simmons T. ‘Marital Status: 2000’ (C2KBR-30),
(www.census.gov/hhes/socdemo/marriage/date/census/index.html), pp.
1–2. October 2003.
12 Soulen R.K. ‘Cruising Toward Bethlehem: Human Dignity and the
New Eugenics.’ God and Human Dignity. R. Kendall Soulen and Linda
Woodhead (editors). William B. Eerdmans. (Grand Rapids, MI: William
B. Eerdmans, 2006), p. 110.
embryos to make sure that their offspring are healthy, strong and
gifted (whereas the old eugenics implied coercion and racism). 13
This is how bio-ethicist John Harris argues in favor of the new eu-
genics: ‘either such traits as hair color eye color, gender and the like
are important, or they are not. If they are not important, why not
let people choose? And if they are important, can it be right to
leave such important matters to chance?’ 14
Of course these matters are not as simple. There are those
who warn against many negative implications and consequences of
these technologies. According to some, sex selection leads to gen-
der inequality and discrimination against women. 15 Elaine L. Gra-
ham for example believes that genetic engineering and determinism
leads to the commodification or instrumentalization of human life,
which amounts ultimately to dehumanization, 16 and R. Kendal Sou-
len raises a Christian objection to the new eugenics that relates to
human dignity and God’s creation. New eugenics basically pro-
motes preference for some human beings over other human be-
ings, he writes. That goes against the ethical principle of equality
for all human beings in terms of right to life and to human digni-
ty. 17
This tendency towards a kind of hyper-humanism, theologi-
cally speaking, may well be considered a form of idolatry where the
human being, finite creation, is raised to the level of ultimate reali-
ty, and hence the ontological confusion between the fabricated and
the ineffable. 18
13 Soulen. ‘Cruising Toward…’ p. 113.

15 Gilles K. ‘Sex Selection Further Devalues Women’
(http://prbblog.org/index.php/2012/10/16/sex-selection-further-
devalues-women).
16 Graham E.L. ‘The End of the Human or the End of the Human?
Human Dignity in Technological Perspective.’ God and Human Dignity. p.

278.
18 Graham E.L. ‘The End of the Human…’ p. 279.
52 THEODOR DAMIAN
CONCLUSIONS ABOUT MARRIAGE

From a Christian theological perspective marriage is a divine and
human institution. Divine because established by God when he
created man and woman in His image, and human because the sub-
jects are part of the created order, yet the crown of it all and the
only creature that is in the divine image. As the prayers of the sac-
rament of marriage in the Orthodox Tradition indicate, besides
God’s sanctioning of this type of union between a man and a
woman through the creation of man as male and female, Jesus
Christ also sanctioned the institution of marriage through His pres-
ence at the wedding in Cana of Galilee.
According to Fr. Siluan Delaturnu, marriage is the place where
the pedagogy of love takes place. The mutual love between hus-
band and wife is an exercise meant to lead to learning how to love
people in general. It is in the context of the married relationship
that one goes beyond egoism 19 and practices respect for the other,
sharing and even sacrificial offering.
PRELIMINARIES ON FAMILY
As Arlene and Jerome Skolnick acknowledge, family issues are
rooted in strong moral and religious beliefs. 20 However not only
family issues, but also the very idea of family, to begin with, is a
religious construct and consequently has a moral character. Ac-
cording to Orthodox Christian theology the concept of family is
rooted in the doctrine of the Trinity. Paternity or maternity and
filiation indicate a type of relationship implicit in the family that no
other type of relationship indicates.
The perichoretical love amongst the persons of the Holy Trinity
represents the supreme model for the ideal family which is meant
to be cradle of love and holiness.
William J. Goode writes that ‘the family is the only social insti-
tution other than religion that is formally developed in all socie-
19 Delaturnu S. ‘Suferinta…’ p. 61.

ties’. 21 This kind of stability is what makes family powerful, yet this
power is derived from the religion that consecrates family as the
basic social unit that makes the society grow, last, and last healthily.
The power of family comes from its sacramental character as the
sacred has always been, in all societies, on the top of their hierarchy
of values. Even today in some very secularized societies, where
religion was moved from the center to the periphery, the most
fundamental moral values, in principle preached by religion and
embedded in cultural norms, traditions and habits, remain essential
for social growth and survival, despite or besides many kinds of
deviations.
TOWARD DEFINITIONS OF FAMILY

The concept of family cannot be easily defined. There are several
and different types of family in different religious and cultural con-
texts and each one can be defined in many ways and based on
many approaches. One very simple and general definition describes
family to be ‘a social unit made up of father, mother and chil-
dren.’ 22 Rebecca L. Melton considers this a definition for ‘tradition-
al’ or ‘nuclear’ family. 23 Yet, in today’s Western societies there are
millions of one parent households which are considered families by
social scientists. According to contradictory statistics, in the US
alone, one finds that ‘two married parents [represent] the norm’
and that ‘about 70 percent of children live with their two parents;’ 24
others indicate that only 35 percent of all households fit the catego-
ry of ‘traditional’ family, 25 while still others put that number at
merely 7 percent. 26
21 Goode W.J. ‘The Theoretical Importance of the Family.’ Family in

Transition. p. 18.
22 Goode W.J. ‘The Theoretical Importance…’ p. 20.
23 Melton R.L. ‘Legal Rights of Unmarried Heterosexual and Homo-
sexual Couples and Evolving Definitions of ‘Family’.’ Journal of Family

Law, 29, 1990–1991 (online), p. 497.
24 Skolnick A.S. Family in Transition.p. 1.
54 THEODOR DAMIAN
In general though, the basic criteria for a traditional family, in

William Goode’s view, are as follows: There are two adult persons
of opposite sex residing together; each one has his and her own
responsibilities towards the household; they are there for one an-
other; they share many things such as a house, food, sex; they have
responsibilities towards their children. 27
THE FAMILY IN CRISIS: THE CURRENT SITUATION

When it comes to the general landscape of the family, in today’s
Western world in particular, Bruce J. Cohen and Terri L. Orbuch
noticed a sharp increase, compared with just a few decades ago, of
the following phenomena: earlier sexual experiences, marriage at a
later age, adolescent pregnancies, divorce rates, single families, and
long term cohabitation of unmarried couples. 28
An increasing number of people do not see the value of mar-
riage any more, as family has come to be understood and accepted
in non-traditional terms and in many diverse ways. Thus singleness
became widespread and an alternative to marriage for those who
never marry, and an alternative to the traditional family for those
who divorce (of which a great number remarry) 29 or who are wid-
ows and never marry again but do take care of their children. 30
When it comes to the traditional family, one of the major
problems that contributes to its rapid decline is the high prevalence
of divorce, and this is taking on ‘epidemic proportions.’ 31 Larry
Frolick writes that many people today, at least in American society,
can expect to be divorced two, three times, since the average time
of staying married is eight years, and getting shorter. 32
27 Goode W.J. ‘The Theoretical Importance…’ p. 21.

28 Cohen and Orbuch. Introduction to Sociology. p. 99.
29 Cohen and Orbuch. Introduction to Sociology. p. 113
30 Saluter A.E. ‘Singleness in America’ ,’ in US Bureau of the Census,
Current Population Reports, series P23, Nr. 162, Studies in Marriage and the
Family, U.S. Government Printing Office. Washington, DC. 1989. p. 1.
31 Frolick L. ‘Why Do People Divorce?’
(http://www.divorcemag.com/c/s3/?relationships/whydivorce).
32 Frolick L. ‘Why Do People Divorce?’
The introduction of ‘no-fault’ divorce laws in many places and

also the possibility of the unilateral divorce (obtaining divorce
without the consent of the spouse) contributed significantly to the
problem. 33 One of the consequences of the dramatic rise of divorce
rates, Thorsten Kneip shows, is the changing pattern of fertility
and child development. 34
Among the many reasons for the breakdown of the family I
will mention here only three, namely the changed definition of the
concept of ‘commitment’, women’s emancipation and adultery.
While one can talk about the positive of negative aspects of the
first one, the second one is generally considered positive and the
last one negative.
As mentioned earlier, commitment today is not what it used
to be. One simple dictionary definition says that it is to pledge
(oneself) to a position on some issue, to bind or obligate, as by a
pledge. The wedding formula, ‘we will be together in good or in
bad until death do us part’ has became today, in many cases, some-
thing like: ‘we will be together in good (but in bad, not so sure)
until I decide otherwise!’
Besides the stability, longevity and totality implied in the defi-
nition, the idea of commitment used to have a sacred dimension
also, as the wedding used to be done in a religious setting, in
Church most of the time, in the Christian tradition. Thus, the two
committed to each other in front of God, and commitment had the
value of oath that one could not break. Then, with the marginaliza-
tion of religion and the de-sacramentalization of life, the religious
connotation or dimension of commitment was lost.
The second reason for the deterioration of the family, as men-
tioned above, is the emancipation of women. There is no need to
explain how much this was necessary and how positive it is. We
take it for granted that in Western society every family wants its
girls to be educated as much as possible, then to have appropriate
jobs according to their own skills, vocation and education, and thus
33 Kneip Th. and Bauer G. ‘Did Unilateral Divorce Laws Raise Di-
vorce Rates in Western Europe?’ Journal of Marriage and Family, 71, No. 3
(2009): pp. 592–595.
34 Kneip Th. and Bauer G. ‘Did Unilateral Divorce Laws…’ p. 592.
56 THEODOR DAMIAN
financial stability and independence, not necessarily in the strict

financial sense of the term, like having separate bank accounts, and
spending the money without the consent of the husbands, but in
the psychological and moral sense; this brings as a consequence a
change in the status of the woman in the family. However, wom-
en’s education and work outside the house, while so positive, does
have undesired consequences on how many children a family will
have and how the children are raised. The problem here lays with
the type of society we live in, the work mentality of our institutions,
companies and corporations, with economic competition and
greed.
Ideally, as it happened in communist Romania under N.
Ceausescu, but unfortunately only for a relative short period of
time, women would be encouraged to have an education and jobs,
but also children, and while raising their children they would be
allowed to take time off from work as much as they wanted, up to
seven years, on a partially paid basis, and return to the workplace
whenever they decided, and have their job security guaranteed.
The third reason for divorce, from my above list, is adultery.
In most of the Western world adultery is considered immoral but is
not illegal (though it is in some of the United States), and is not
generally included in the criminal code. 35 Even in this case the def-
inition of the term, and thus its understanding and how people
view and judge such a fact, changes. On example is provided by
Ethan Bronner who researched on the issue and found out that in
1838, according to New Jersey courts, the negative consequences
of adultery consisted not in ‘the alienation of the wife’s affections
and loss of comfort in her company’, but in ‘its tendency to adul-
terate the issue of an innocent husband and to turn the inheritance
away from his own blood to that of a stranger’; in 1952 in the same
state the court stated: ‘Adultery exists when one spouse rejects the
other by entering into a personal intimate sexual relationship with
any other person’, and then, ‘it is the rejection of the spouse com-
pleted with out-of-marriage intimacy that constitutes adultery’. 36 In
other words if one has a personal intimate sexual relationship, short
35 Bronner E. ‘Adultery…’ p. A 12.

36 Bronner E. ‘Adultery…’ p. A 12.
term or long term, with another person outside the family, but does
not reject the spouse, that is not adultery, and seemingly is accepta-
ble. And this is exactly how, in general, adultery is viewed today.
Almost everybody knows of somebody who has an extra-marital
affair, but nobody cares. One has to be in a high status position for
a social fall to result from a case of adultery.
The liberalization of abortion in the Western world is also a
factor that greatly affects and changes the landscape of the tradi-
tional family today, both in terms of laws and in terms of people’s
attitude, 37 R. Kendall Soulen observes.
The breakdown of the family is not a singular phenomenon in
modern world. In his book Coming Apart: The State of White
America, 1960–2010, Charles Murray places it in the larger context
of the decay of the American culture. He indicates that today ‘for
the first time more mothers below the age of 30 are unmarried than
married’. 38
This is a real problem, in particular for the poor where the fa-
ther is either absent or unemployed or a drug addict or has a crimi-
nal record, in which case he does not take responsibilities in the
family and is not a good model for the children who, in such a situ-
ation, have many chances to follow in the father’s footsteps. 39
One widespread practice, which is part of the change of the
traditional family, is cohabitation. According to Rebeca L. Melton,
the terms ‘alternative family’ or ‘non-traditional family’ refer to
people living in ‘arrangements other than the traditional one for
married couples with their own children’, basically ‘known as do-
mestic partners or cohabitants’. 40 The transition from cohabitation
to marriage between gay and lesbian people and their right to adopt
and raise children or have them through in vitro fertilization and
other bio-engineering technologies also greatly changes the way
family used to be understood.

38 Thomas J.J. ‘Transcendence and Sentience in Science and Reli-
gion.’ Journal of Interdisciplinary Studies, 24, No. 1–2 (2012): p. 169.
39 Thomas J.J. ‘Transcendence…’. Ibid.
40 Melton R.L. ‘Legal Rights…’ p. 497.
58 THEODOR DAMIAN
However, even in the light of all these changes, the family

continues to be an extremely important factor in modern society 41
and continues to stand as a dream for the younger generations, just
as it continues to be a challenge – something which gives it all the
more value.
EVERYTHING GOES IN CYCLES

According to Cohen and Orbuch, ‘in agrarian societies children
used to be considered an asset to the family, whereas in the urban,
industrialized society they are considered a burden.’ 42 One can say
that in this sense there is a passage from blessing to curse, but only
in the context well specified: urban, industrialized, and when it
comes to having many children. However, when it comes to having
one or two children, all the more if we speak of one, then this is
not the case. Most women still want to be mothers, under any cir-
cumstances; ideally with husbands in long lasting, loving relation-
ships, and if not so, at least as single mothers and even when they
have to struggle to divide their time between school and/or work-
place and home.
In this last case one solution is offered by the recreation of the
extended family. This trend is explained by Penelope Green in a
recent article published in The New York Times: ‘The shift to the
‘non-linear’ family’ is accelerating, and home builders respond to
the trend by creating new types of houses, ‘atypical’ or ‘next-gen’
houses to accommodate that need, replacing the house designed
for the classic nuclear family. 43 This ‘back to the future’ moment is
illustrated by the following statistics: ‘41 percent of adults between
25–29 are currently living or have lived recently with their parents’;
‘overall more than 50 million Americans are in multigenerational
households, a 10 percent increase from 2007’. 44 The benefits of this
41Cohen and Orbuch. Introduction to Sociology. p. 113.

42Cohen and Orbuch. Introduction to Sociology. p. 112
43 Green P. ‘Under One Roof: Building for Extended Families.’ The
New York Times, vol. CLXII, Nr. 55.971, Friday, November 20, 2012, p.
A4.
44 Green P. ‘Under One Roof…’. Ibid.
positive trend are evident. This is how Green sees the changing
shape of the American family: ‘boomer couples with boomerang
children and aging parents, an increasingly multi-ethnic population
with a tradition of housing three generations under one roof and
even singles who may need to double up with siblings or friends in
this fraught economic climate.’ 45
This kind of family is the place, in both the physical and the
spiritual sense of the term, where everybody is taken care of. Elder-
ly people will not need to be sent to nursing homes and be left
there in strangers’ care, longing for a phone call or visit by their
busy children and grandchildren; the young married who work will
have who to leave their children with, so they be not raised by
strangers; and the children themselves will grow in an atmosphere
of love and care and in a place where family values are transmitted
from one generation to another. This context will provide stability
and continuity 46 and inner health, and this is where personal and
civic virtues such as respect, warmth, love, mutual help, commun-
ion and compassion grow and bring fruit.
CONCLUSIONS ABOUT FAMILY

When the family is established on the strong foundation of faith in
God, this vertical connection with the transcendent, unknown and
ineffable God yet closer to one’s heart than his or her own self,
leads to the horizontal connection between husband and wife in
terms of mutual trust and commitment, as they are also in their
dedicated love closer to each one’s heart than each to his or her
own, while each one is unknown to the other, transcendent and
ineffable, at the human level.
Being rooted in God through creation, but also through the
husband and wife’s faith in God, the family, with the children being
born there, becomes the image of the Holy Trinity. In the Holy
Trinity perfection is not represented in a dual relation, where the
Father loves the Son and the Son loves the Father, which ultimately
can be a sort of self-love because each one is the reflection of the
45 Green P. ‘Under One Roof…’ p. A1.

46 Green P. ‘Under One Roof…’. Ibid.
60 THEODOR DAMIAN
other, like one reflecting oneself in the other and contemplating

oneself like in a mirror, but in a Trinitarian relation where the duali-
ty is open to the third one and in that is open to the outside. In the
family the third one is the child, then the children, and in that, the
world. One learns love in the small family, to apply it then in the
larger one. This is how the family becomes the school for the love
of God and of the world.
Marriage and family, in the Christian sense of the term repre-
sent absolute and universal values in as much as every human being
owes everything to the mutual, committed, sacred relation between
his or her parents in the family where one was born. Given the
purpose of man’s creation as male and female, to multiply and min-
ister to the world, every human being has a vocation to marriage
and family. In the Christian understanding of the terms marriage is
not just a contract and family is not just a genetic and social type of
belonging. This is what happens when one takes God out of there.
In that case they are not what they are meant to be. It is only with
God at their foundation that marriage and family have the power
of transforming their members and transfiguring the world. It is
this kind of love, purified and strengthened in and by faith, that has
the power to bring back humankind to the way of the kingdom
under Christ’s guidance.
SEXUAL HEALING:
DESIRE AND PLEASURE IN THE
THOUGHT OF STS. AUGUSTINE OF
HIPPO AND GREGORY OF NYSSA
DAVID J. DUNN
Nearly 25 years ago, Peter Brown remarked that the theology of
sexual desire Augustine developed in the last twelve years of his life
marked the beginning of a continental drift between eastern and
western Christianity. 1 This paper takes a closer look at that drift by
seeing how Augustine’s views on sex compare with that of a foun-
dational figure for eastern Christianity: St. Gregory of Nyssa. My
intent is, in a way, ecumenical. I hope to contribute to healing the
fissure Brown described by destabilizing anachronistic judgments
about both figures’ sexual ‘prudishness.’ In particular, because Or-
thodox scholars have had a tendency to dismiss Augustine as nom-
inal or treat him as a heretic, I want to show that his view of sex,
owing to a complex understanding of the divided will, is in some
ways more positive than many are apt to give him credit for. 2
1 See Peter Brown, ‘Sexuality and Society in the Fifth Century A.D.’
Tria Corda (Como: Edizioni, 1983), 70.
2 Oft-cited examples of Orthodox treatments of Augustine include
John S. Romanides The Ancestral Sin: A Comparative Study of the Sin of Our
Ancestors Adam and Eve (Ridgewood, NJ: Zephyr, 2002). Christos Yanna-
ras, Orthodoxy and the West: Hellenic Self-Identity in the Modern Age. Edited by
Norman Russell. (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross, 2006), 33–34. Fr. Seraphim
Rose acknowledges the marginal status of Augustine in some Orthodox
circles in his apologia for the good bishop, The Place of Blessed Augustine in the
61
62 DAVID J. DUNN
I develop this comparative analysis in three parts. The first

treats marriage, virginity, and pleasure in the theology of Augustine
of Hippo. Although I recognize that Augustine’s views about sex
were robust and developing, I have confined myself mostly to On
Virginity and On Marriage, as well as Book XIV of The City of God,
using other writings, such as those against Julian of Eclanum, in a
more supplemental way. 3 I next explore the same topics in the the-
ology of Gregory of Nyssa, beginning with On the Making of Man,
which provides anthropological context for his encomium On Holy
Virginity. I conclude that, even though Nyssen (and the Orthodox
Church in general) rejects Augustine’s view that sex is sinful, the
absence of a concept of the divided will makes sex more spiritually
dangerous than Augustine would have allowed.
Orthodox Church (Platina, CA: St Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1983).

Yet Rose also admits that Augustine was in error, which he attributes to a
western tendency toward ‘over-logicalness’ (passim). This noble effort to
rehabilitate Augustine to the East thus still demonstrates a failure to ap-
preciate the weight of the controversies in which Augustine found him-
self, particularly the Donatist controversy, and the effect that had on his
doctrine of divine grace and election which he articulated in the Pelagian
controversy (which is where most of the ‘over-logicalness’ occurs, accord-
ing to Rose). See J. Patout Burns, The Development of Augustine’s Doctrine of
Operative Grace (Paris: Études Augustiniennes, 1980). It is to the credit of
Orthodox scholarship that this trend has begun to reverse itself in recent
years. See Myroslaw Tataryn, Augustine and Russian Orthodoxy: Russian Or-
thodox Theologians and Augustine of Hippo: A Twentieth Century Dialogue (Lan-
ham, MD: International Scholars, 2000). George E. Demacopoulos and
Aristotle Papanikolaou, ‘Augustine and the Orthodox: ‘The West’ in the
East’ in Orthodox Readings of Augustine, eds. George E. Demacopoulos and
Aristotle Papanikolaou (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press,
2008), 11–40.
3 I made this choice for three main reasons. First, reading Augus-
tine’s polemical writings tend to reinforce the stereotypes one has about
him, and second, his views on sex, so far as I can tell, remained relatively
stable, even during his polemical period. Thus, to treat the controversy
with Julian, in the third place, would require providing a great deal of con-
text which would be superfluous to my argument.
SEXUAL HEALING 63
AUGUSTINE: THE PROBLEM OF PRIDE

It can be tempting for us modern readers to dismiss Augustine's
view that sex, even within loving marriages, was sinful. We anach-
ronistic illuminati wag our fingers and scold his memory for being
such a ‘prude.’ But, as John Cavadini pointed out, ‘To fault Augus-
tine in this context for not realizing that ‘sexual pleasure’ can enrich
a couple’s relationship, or to assess Augustine’s views against our
own more ‘positive’ view, may be, with all due respect, to beg the
question.’ Who is to say that sex – even within the confines of mar-
riage – is always, or even mostly, a good thing? Perhaps Augustine
was wrong. Or perhaps we like sex and prefer not to think too
much about its spiritual consequences. Cavadini continues, ‘For
Augustine, the question would not be whether sexual pleasure can
enrich a couple’s relationship, but whether there is any sexual
pleasure possible without a taint of violence or complacency (‘self-
pleasing’) in it.’ 4
Augustine answers, No. But to content oneself with that nega-
tion does little more than provide one with polemical fodder
against ‘the West.’ Augustine charted a middle way between the
naïve Pelagianism of Julian of Eclanum, who saw conjugal sex as
something innocent and harmless, and rigorist ascetics who would
have every Christian don the black. These perspectives (the Pelagi-
an and ascetic) only seem disparate, but they both share an anthro-
pology which sees sex as something belonging merely to the flesh.
For Augustine, sexual intercourse was a spiritual event with spiritu-
al implications. In sex, Christian charity, sinful lust, the weakened
will, and our divided loves meet in a moment of intense bodily
pleasure. This makes sex, in a word, complicated.
Augustine did not think sex was de facto sinful. There is sin in
sex now, but this is only because of the Fall. Thus to understand
sex within Augustine’s overall theological anthropology requires we
begin at the beginning, in Eden. The prelapsarian template of hu-
manity reveals our postlapsarian defects. The first characteristic of
that prelapsarian template is sexual difference. For Augustine, God
4 John C. Cavadini, ‘Feeling Right: Augustine on the Passions and

Sexual Desire.’ Augustinian Studies. 36:1 (2005): 195–210.
64 DAVID J. DUNN
create Adam and Eve male and female, and thus God intended our
different sexual organs to serve a divine purpose. (We will see later
how different this view is from Gregory.) Thus sex is something
originally good. 5 This is, in the second place, because God intended
the number of elect to replace the number of fallen angels. 6 Sex
and procreation had a cosmic significance. Augustine is quick to
add that Adam and Eve did not have sex because God did not tell
them to have sex. Without sin, there is no lust. One’s sexual de-
sires, and thus one’s body, are fully under one’s control. Thus Au-
gustine describes the sex Adam and Eve would have had in the fol-
lowing way:
[T]he sexual organs would have been moved by the same
command of the will as the other members are. Then, not
needing to be aroused by the excitement of passion, the man
would have poured his seed into his wife’s womb in tranquility
of mind and without any corruption of her body’s integrity.
For, though this cannot be proved by experience, there is no
reason for us not to believe that, when those parts of the body
were not driven by turbulent heat but brought into use by the
power of the will when the need arose, the male seed could
have been introduced into the womb with no loss of the wife’s
integrity, just as the flow of menstrual blood can now come
forth from the womb of a virgin without any such loss of in-
tegrity; for the seed could enter in the same way as the men-
strual flow now leaves. Just as the woman’s womb might have
been opened for birth simply by the influence of the maturity
of the foetus, and without any moans of pain, so the two sexes
might have been conjoined for the purpose of impregnation
and conception by a natural use of will, and not by lustful ap-
petite. 7
5 Augustine, City of God, XIV.9–14, 17–26.

6 Augustine, Enchiridon, IX.29
7 Augustine, City of God, XIV.26. For more information about the
biological assumptions at work in this passage, see Peter Brown’s Body and
Society, Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual
Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press),
SEXUAL HEALING 65
It is important to note that the absence of lust does not necessarily

mean the absence of desire or pleasure. Lust is disordered desire. It
is desire we struggle to control. Augustine’s language may sound
clinical, but this does not necessarily mean that pre-lapsarian sex
would have been a kind of chore. Rather, Augustine’s language is
for our benefit. He writes, ‘The things of which I am here speaking
are now thought shameful; and so, though I am endeavouring, as far
as I can, to describe how such things might have been before they
became shameful, our discussion must rather be checked by he re-
straining voice of modesty than carried forward by my eloquence,
such as it is.’ 8 Augustine moderates his language because we can be
so immoderate, but, again, he has to resort to such modesty only
because we are fallen creatures.
Fallen creatures suffer from lust because pride disorders our
desires. We can only find true happiness in loving God for God’s
own sake, but after the Fall, our ‘default setting’ is to love ourselves
first and to love others, including God, for our own sake. 9 This
misdirected desire weakens the will; it is why we are subject to the
passions, overwhelmed by lust, and experience pleasure, ultimately,
as an act of violence against the other. 10
The world works on our bodies differently after the fall.
Pleasure tends to justify the soul's false believe in its inherent
goodness. 11 This lie of pleasure is really what Augustine means by
concupiscence (i.e. sinful desire). 12 Concupiscence lurks in all pleas-
ures, such as eating. 13 It is possible to make a conscious choice to
moderate the pleasure of food. Sex is more potent. 14 One may do
mathematical calculations and enjoy a glass of fine wine at the same
1988.
Augustine, City of God, XIV.26. Emphasis mine.
8
I refer, of course, to Augustine’s restless heart. See Confessions, I.i.1.

9
On self-love, see The Trinity, VIII.v.12ff.

10 See Augustine, On the Grace of Christ, VIII.9
11 See Cavadini, ‘Feeling Right,’ 203–04.
12 See Augustine, City of God, XIV.16.
13 Augustine, Confessions, X.xxxi.44. For Augustine on the danger of
habit see Confessions, VIII.ix.21.

14 Augustine, City of God, XIV.16.
66 DAVID J. DUNN
time (but probably just one), but the same is not true of sexual cli-
max. As Augustine indicated above, orgasm makes every lover a
selfish lover. Sexual pleasure overwhelms all our cognitive faculties.
No matter how much we may delight in the companionship of our
beloved, when sexual climax comes, we are all just nerve endings.
But pleasure is only a problem because lust is a problem. Sin is
like a cycle of addiction. Lust reinforces pride, and pleasure rein-
forces lust. But the absence of pride negates the problem of pleas-
ure. Thus Peter Brown has noted that, for Adam and Eve, ‘[Augus-
tine] saw no reason why conception should not depend upon a
moment of intense pleasure…’ 15 I would go one step further than
Brown and suggest that it is probable that Adam and Eve would
have taken pleasure in sex. Augustine did not think that the Fall
brought about any fundamental change in our biology. 16 What is
pleasurable now would have been pleasurable in Eden. The only
difference is how we react to that pleasure. Thus, sex is not a sin so
much as the pleasures of sex arouse the sinful tendencies that are
always present within us. Were it not for pride, there would be no
lust, and sex would be innocent.
The sinfulness not of sex itself, but of the lust present in sex,
is important to understand why Augustine thought that sex, even
within the bonds of marriage, was sinful. It is sinful because, no
matter how much we might love our spouse, during sex we love
ourselves more. Even if that self-love is present only for a moment.
It is still there! But it is a minor – venial – sin. It belongs to the
same category of sins as cursing or laughing too much. 17 But the
sin present in sex can be redeemed – overcome – when sex is or-
15 Peter Brown, The Body and Society, 417. While I am initially

persuaded by Brown’s point, especially given Augustine’s allowance for
what seems like purely gratuitous eating in the heavenly city (City of God,
XIII.22), I must add a caution that this bit of argumentum ad ignorantum is
by no means conclusive.
16 Augustine, The Literal Meaning of Genesis, VI.35–36.
17 See Mathijs Lamberigts, ‘A Critical Evaluation of Critiques of
Augustine’s View of Sexuality.’ In Augustine and his Critics, Essays in Honour

of Gerald Bonner, eds Robert Dodaro and George Lawless (New York:
Routledge, 2000), 180ff.
SEXUAL HEALING 67
dered toward a higher end. Concupiscence is negated ‘when in that

wherein husband and wife cleave to one another, they have in mind
that they be father and mother.’ 18 This rule applied only to Chris-
tian couples. Sex among pagans was always sinful because they just
brought little fallen Adams into the world (barring some kind of
divine intervention), whereas a Christian couple had the potential
to produce little Christs. Every child born into the church could
add to the number of the elect, thus hastening the kingdom. 19 Mar-
ried sex may have been sinful, but it was also an eschatological act
(not unlike the eucharist itself). Married sex could be an act of faith
– a kind of worship.
Concupiscence can also be redeemed by compassion for one’s
spouse. Sex is an act of caritas when it helps preserve marital fideli-
ty. 20 Like many bishops at the time, Augustine upheld continence
as the ultimate goal of a married couple, especially as age naturally
cooled their youthful heat, but he also insisted that married conti-
nence must be a mutual decision. Resisting the advances of one’s
spouse was not a righteous act. Thus Augustine berated Ecdicia, a
woman who donned black and announced to her husband that she
was now a widow, saying that her refusal to fulfill her marital re-
sponsibilities made her equally responsible for any adultery her
husband might commit. 21 Such a declaration might offend our
modern sensibilities, but Augustine presumes that no person is re-
sponsible only for her own sins. We rise and fall together; this is
especially true in marriage.
In sum, the problem Augustine had with sex was not sex but
pride. Pride gave rise to lust, which sullied sexual pleasure. Augus-
tine’s concern with pride is placed in the foreground in his advice
to virgins. In On Virginity, he spends relatively little time praising
virginity than warning dedicated virgins not to be too confident in
their physical continence. Though they had more time to devote to
the life of the spirit, they also had a higher standing in the church,
18 Augustine, On Marriage, 3.
19 Augustine, On Marriage, 8.
20 Augustine, On Marriage, 5, 13.
21 Augustine, Letter 262.
68 DAVID J. DUNN
which could titillate pride just as easily as married sex. 22 This cau-
tion stands in sharp contrast to Gregory of Nyssa’s encomium On
Holy Virginity, to which we now turn.
GREGORY OF NYSSA: THE PROBLEM OF PLEASURE

Gregory of Nyssa was born an aristocrat. Citizens of his rank were
taught that, apart from the expectation to produce male offspring,
who would grow up to oversee the family’s estates, sex was innoc-
uous. It was just something people did. Gregory fulfilled his aristo-
cratic obligations by taking a wife, and chances are that for one
fleeting moment he had been a father. Of course, Gregory left us
with few biographical details. It is possible his stirring account, in
On Virginity, of parental anguish at the loss of a child is but proof
of his imaginative rhetorical genius. But whatever the case may be,
the fact that he ties sex and death together in his apologia for the
virgin life evinces the particular gravitas his theological writings gave
to matters of sex, the body, and human spirit. Not unlike Augus-
tine, though in a vastly different way, Gregory thought of sex in
eschatological terms.
As Peter Brown has noted, for a Christian of Gregory’s rank,
celibacy was an act of protest against this passing order for the sake
of the kingdom to come. 23 It was a martyr-like decision. St. Atha-
nasius cited Christian fearlessness in the face of death as proof that
Christ was raised from the dead. 24 The same was true of the absti-
nent. Aristocrats had babies because they feared death, and with it,
the loss of property and reputation. Birth only feeds the grave.
Whether adult children find the cold body of their grandmother in
her bed, or terrified parents try to cool their gasping, feverish in-
fant, both witness the order Christ came to vanquish by the power
of the cross. Death is the last enemy to be overcome (see 1 Cor.
22 The gift of martyrdom further complicates the picture, for God

may select a married woman to be martyred (such as Perpetua) and pass
over a virgin. Augustine, On Virginity, 1–2, 22, 46–48.
23 See Brown, The Body and Society, 285ff.
24 Athanasius, On the Incarnation, trans. A Religious of C.S.M.V., Popu-
lar Patristics (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2000), 29.

SEXUAL HEALING 69
15:26), it gnaws away at the living, and it is a foe against which both
martyr and virgin have declared war.
Death began its feast when Adam and Eve disordered them-
selves and all their offspring. In On the Making of Man, Nyssen says
that humans have three souls: the rational, animal, and vegetative. 25
Only the rational soul is made in the image of God, which is wit-
nessed in its sovereign rule over the body. 26 The animal soul obeys
the rational soul to move the body, while the vegetative soul en-
sures that what we consume nourishes the body. 27 That is the order
God intended, and it is the order our edenic progenitors violated.
Rather than epectasis – the infinite perfection of both soul and body
through the spiritual and intellectual contemplation of the Word –
Adam and Eve allowed themselves to become distracted by the
flesh. The rational soul subordinated itself to the animal soul by
diving headfirst into carnal delights. The Fall from God was thus a
25 Three major texts relate Gregory’s theological anthropology: On

the Making of Man, On Virginity, and On the Soul and Resurrection.25 Gregory’s
writings are difficult to date, but On the Making of Man seems to form the
foundation of his later thought insofar as it deals with the body, its
pleasures, and the origins of death in Adam and Eve. On Virginity is an
encomium for celibacy and seems to presume the former text. J. Warren
Smith has proposed that On the Soul and Resurrection may correct some
possible asomatic tendencies in On the Making of Man, but the former does
not have much to say about human sexuality, making any conclusions
drawn therefrom far too tenuous. See J. Warren Smith, Passion and
Paradise: Human and Divine Emotion in the Thought of Gregory of Nyssa (New
York: Herder and Herder, 2004), 75ff. I mean founding in the sense not
only of chronology but that it deals with the founders of the human
species in Adam and Eve.
26 Nyssen, On the Making of Man, IV.1, V.1–2, VIII.8, also IX.
Gregory builds his case in this text slowly, laying the minutia of one
argumentative move carefully upon the one that preceded it. Therefore
the reader will be able to see evidence of what I site in other passages.
Where possible, to help guide the reader I have limited my citations to
one or two paragraphs, noting whole chapters or larger passages only
when necessary.
27 Nyssen, On the Making of Man, VIII.8.
70 DAVID J. DUNN
fall into flesh (in the Pauline sense, not to be confused with a fall
into the body), which plunged the human race into sin and death. 28
It is worth pausing for a moment to observe that Gregory of
Nyssa’s construction of the interaction of the three souls, and their
effects upon the body, is somewhat analogous to Augustine’s con-
cept of the divided will in a couple of ways. For one, it is a way of
thinking about internal conflict and struggle with sin that, further-
more, can explain why human beings do not always act according
to their desires, evidenced in our inability to exercise total control
over our bodies. But etiologies matter. Two different diagnoses can
explain the same set of symptoms but yield different courses of
treatment. To wit, both viral and bacterial infections can cause fe-
ver and nausea, which affects what the doctor prescribes. Augus-
tine says we fell because of pride, and we continue to fail because
the will now lacks the strength to do the good it wants (or may
want) to do. The struggle against the passions is thus a struggle of
constant supplication. Pray for grace, Augustine says, and call me in
the morning. For Gregory, the source of our sin is not pride but
carnal distraction. He does not think in terms of a will that needs to
be strengthened by divine grace, but an unruly animal soul that
needs to be tamed by ascetic discipline.
Gregory does not say that sex is original sin, but he does say
that sex is a consequence of the Fall. Unlike Augustine, God did
not intend humans to have sex to make babies. Rather, God want-
ed Adam and Eve to reproduce by ‘that mode by which the angels
were increased and multiplied…’ 29 What Gregory means by this is
not clear. Perhaps he is suggesting that God would have created
the offspring of Adam and Eve just as God had created the angels.
Or he might imagine some kind of intellectual union between male
and female, such that the idea of a human being would produce a
human. But whatever Gregory meant by that statement, the point
is that, though sex was not the cause of the Fall (at least he does
not say so), it is clearly an effect of the Fall. Even our biological dif-
ferences – our genitalia – is that God foresaw our Fall and thus,
28 Gregory does not suggest that sex was the original sin. See Nyssen,
On the Making of Man, XII.10–11, XVIII.6, XXII.6,
29 Nyssen, On the Making of Man, XVII.4.
SEXUAL HEALING 71
out of compassion for our weakness, provided the human species

with an animal way of reproducing. 30 Thus sexual difference and
sexual reproduction, insofar as they owe their origins to sin and
death, are, in a certain sense, unnatural. 31
Salvation requires reversing the order of the Fall, giving the
rational soul priority over the animal soul by taming the impulses
of the latter through asceticism – fasting, prayer, and especially cel-
ibacy. On Virginity thus draws out the practical and logical implica-
tions of the above. Our incessant distractions with the pleasures of
the flesh continue the effects of the Fall, giving death a handhold in
life and in us. 32 It is important to stress that Gregory is not being an
anthropological dualist. He does not think of human perfection as
escape from the body, rather the purification of the body. The dif-
ference between flesh and body – sarx and soma – is a difference of
desire. In a manner of speaking, it is about where we place our pri-
orities, whether we subject all our intellectual and affective pursuits
to the temporary goods of physical pleasures or the eternal Good
itself. To put it somewhat crudely, the difference is about what
‘turns us on.’ The love of God is a kind of eros. 33 Comparing desire
30 Nyssen, On the Making of Man, XVI.7.

31 Nyssen, On the Making of Man, XVI.7. See also Peter C. Bouteneff,
‘Essential or Existential: The Problem of the Body in the Anthropology of
St. Gregory of Nyssa,’ in Gregory of Nyssa: Homilies on the Beatitudes (The
Eighth International Colloquium on Gregory of Nyssa) Congress Held in
Paderborn 14–18 September 1998, eds. Hubertus R. Drobner and Albert
Viciano (Boston: Brill, 2000).
32 Nyssen, On Holy Virginity, 13.
33 This accounts for how Gregory is able to think of spiritual pro-
gress as epectasis – a desire for the infinite God that grows infinitely. The
one who loves God is always satisfied with God, yet experiences this satis-
faction as an increase in desire. This may strike some as a contradiction
because it seems impossible that we can be both satisfied and yet want
more. To wit, it seems like Gregory is saying that we are satisfied and dis-
satisfied at the same time. But epectasis makes sense when we think of di-
vine love in terms of eros. Spiritual satisfaction is not unlike sexual satisfac-
tion. Good sex, sex that satisfies both partners, does not lead to a reduc-
tion of sexual activity. It increases it. True eros – whether it is for God or
72 DAVID J. DUNN
to a stream, Gregory says that our eros is intended to flow infinitely

into the infinite God. We are embodied creatures, and this means
that we must cut some ditches in this stream to irrigate our fields.
That is, we must eat and drink and sleep. But we must be wise
farmers. If we dig too many ditches, if we eat, drink, and sleep too
much, then we will flood our fields, and the Godward flow of our
desire will never reach its final destination. Therefore, like the wise
farmer, the wise Christian moderates her pleasures. She does not
flood her fields, lest by distraction, soma becomes sarx, and she re-
peats the sin of Adam and Eve by allowing her rational soul to wal-
low in the muddy, fetid fields of carnal delights. But if one restricts
the pleasures of the flesh, taking only what is necessary to nourish
the body, then the stream of eros can become a powerful current –
a potent force for beatifying the soul and transforming the body
into an iconic prolepsis of the angelic. 34
Sex is highly pleasurable and thus extremely dangerous. That
said, Gregory of Nyssa is not exactly anti-sex. Nyssen does say that
virginity is a prerequisite for the truly spiritual life, but it is im-
portant to see this within a larger ascetic anthropological frame-
work. Virginity is one of the main ways he thinks about the body,
desire, and the passions. Gregory is not just concerned about sex.
As Hart observes, ‘For a treatise on virginity, Gregory’s De virgini-
tate has remarkably little to say about sexual lust.’ 35 All ‘sensual
pleasures’ are dangerous, in particular because one kind of pleasure
can awaken other kinds of pleasures. 36 The passions, Gregory says,
are like the links of a chain. Tug at one, and the whole chain
moves. 37 But this also means that subduing one passion frees up
the beloved – satisfies but never satiates. Everett Ferguson explained this
well in ‘God’s Infinity and Man’s Mutability: Perpetual Progress according
to Gregory of Nyssa,’ Greek Orthodox Theological Review 18.2 (1973): 59–78.
See also Ekkehard Mühlenberg, ‘Synergism in Gregory of Nyssa,’ in
ed. Eduard Lohse. (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter & Co., 1997), 93–122.
Zeitschrift für die Neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der Älteren Kirche,
34 Nyssen, On Holy Virginity, 6, 8, 9, 21. See also 4.

35 Hart, ‘Reconciliation of Body and Soul,’ 455.
SEXUAL HEALING 73
spiritual energy to subdue the others, and chastity frees up a lot of

energy. In other words, sex is one big link. 38
Gregory does praise marriage for its ‘sweet rivalry in subduing
one's own will in love,’ 39 but he does not think very highly of sex
within marriage. Gregory believes the married are to live by a mo-
nastic standard. Thus his ideal type of husband is Isaac, who mar-
ried late in life, fulfilled his conjugal duties, then returned to a life
of chastity. 40 But since most of us lack the will power to have sex as
little as possible, Gregory repeats Paul's advice not to marry (see 1
Cor. 7). But Gregory actually ends up citing Paul in a way that con-
tradicts him. In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul does tell the Corinthians that
he wishes they could all be chaste (mostly for eschatological rea-
sons), but he permits marriage for those who might otherwise fall
prey to temptation. ‘For it is better to marry than to burn with pas-
sion,’ he writes (7:9). Thus virginity is best, but marriage is accepta-
ble. However, for the spiritually weak, it is all but essential. Gregory
agrees with Paul about the goodness of virginity, but he overlooks
and contradicts Paul about the practical necessity of marriage.
Gregory’s pastoral advice for the weak is to ‘flee for refuge to vir-
ginity as a safe fortress…’ 41 Paul sends those who are subject to
their passions to the marriage bed, but Gregory sends them to the
monastery. I, for one, doubt Gregory of Nyssa meant to misrepre-
sent the apostle. This contradiction says less about his intent than it
does about the anthropological prejudices he brought to the text.
For Gregory, there is not ‘safe’ sex (so to speak). Sex within mar-
riage may not be a sin, but that does not mean it is a good idea.
People should avoid marriage if possible. If it is not possible, then
(like Isaac) they should avoid sex. This is because sex leads to
pleasure, pleasure leads to distraction, and distraction diverts our
eros from God back into our own bodies. Married sex may be ‘legal’
in the eyes of the church and the eyes of God, but it can be the
spark that ignites the passionate fires of gehenna in the soul.
38 Nyssen, On Holy Virginity, 15–17.

40 Nyssen, On Holy Virginity, 8–9.
74 DAVID J. DUNN
CONCLUDING IMPLICATIONS
The preceding has shown that Gregory and Augustine agree that
sex poses a spiritual risk, but each thinks about the nature of that
risk, and thus the best response to it, in terms not easily reconciled,
so that what is of secondary importance for Augustine is primary
for Nyssen. For Augustine, the problem with sex is not pleasure. It
is pride. Pleasure is only a problem because we are fallen. It con-
tributes to the self-delusion of pride and thus weakens the will by
dividing its loves between the true love of God and the false love
of self. The spiritual danger of sex is thus, in a word, spiritual.
But pride does not feature in Gregory of Nyssa’s anthropolo-
gy, at least not when he thinks about the Fall. He agrees that we are
disordered, but this disorder has to do with an imbalance between
the internal and external life rather than the internal life with itself.
Pleasure caused the Fall by distracting us, and pleasure keeps us fall-
en by continuing to distract us, siphoning off spiritual energy that
could otherwise go toward our beatification. Disciplining the body
and bringing it under the rule of the rational mind begins to return
us to Eden. This is not anthropological dualism; Gregory does not
deny the goodness of the body. This is to misunderstand asceti-
cism. Ascetic discipline does not reject the body because it needs
the body to train the soul. Chastity is the foundation of the ascetic
life because it refocuses our energies onto the Good, putting us
back on the path toward prelapsarian integrity. By withdrawing
from the distractions of the flesh, we begin to master it, making
sarx into soma again. 42
The difference between Augustine and Gregory is thus be-
tween a divided will versus a distracted soul, a difference that sheds
light on the way each conceived of the ‘sinfulness’ of sex. It is not
uncommon to find criticism of Augustine that echo the sentiment
of Uta Ranke-Heinemann, who accused him of fusing ‘hatred of
sex and pleasure in a systematic unity.’ 43 The above shows that not
42 Nyssen, On the Making of Man, XVIII.3–4.

43 Uta Ranke-Heinemann, Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven: Women,
Sexuality and the Catholic Church, trans Peter Heinegg (New York:
Doubleday, 1990), 75. Karen Jo Torjensen, When Women Were Priests:
SEXUAL HEALING 75
to be the case. Augustine did not hate sex (one might say the prob-
lem was that he liked it too much). Sex was part of God’s original
plan for creation, and therefore it is good. Nor is pleasure a prob-
lem. Though Augustine’s modesty obscures what he actually
thought about the pleasure of sex in Eden, there is nothing in his
thought that would preclude pleasure as sinful (again, absent the
Fall). Indeed, Augustine did not believe the Fall changed human
nature. The bodies of Adam and Eve did not change when they
were expelled from Paradise; they only lost grace that had pre-
served them from death and pain. Thus it would be inconsistent
with Augustine’s anthropology to propose that the endings in hu-
man genitalia are more sensitive now than in Eden. 44
Ranke, Heinemann and others may be reasoning by analogy
when they accuse Augustine of hating sex and pleasure. If even
marital sex is a sin, and we are to hate sin, then it follows we must
hate sex. But it is not accurate to say that Augustine thought sex
was a sin. Rather, he thought there was a moment of sin in sex –
irreducible selfishness – that could not be avoided, but only over-
come in the greater good of hastening the kingdom by bringing
more of God’s elect into the world. 45 But we have seen that even
sex for lust ranks low on Augustine’s list of sins. It deserves as
much of our hatred as immoderate laughter.
Gregory of Nyssa’s doctrine of sex has received less critical
treatment than Augustine’s, but this may owe to the fact that his
genius has only recently received wide recognition from modern
scholars. Some have argued that Gregory held a positive view of
human sexuality, particularly married intimacy. For instance, Mark
D. Hart has argued that Gregory believed sex was good because it
continued the species, but this ignores the fact that sex is only nec-
essary because of sin. It was not a part of God's original plan for
creation. Neither is gender. Had Adam and Eve remained firmly
rooted in the good – had they not excited the passions of the flesh
the Rise of Christianity (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993), 211–219,

Women’s Leadership in the Early Church and the Scandal of their Subordination in
221, 224ff.
44 Augustine, The Literal Meaning of Genesis, VI.35–36.
45 Augustine, The Literal Meaning of Genesis, IX.5–6.
76 DAVID J. DUNN
– then there would have been no sex. 46 Any good we might associ-
ate with sex, when it comes to the thought of Gregory of Nyssa,
must be judged against the broader context of human sinfulness.
One could argue that Gregory’s theology of sex is more posi-
tive than Augustine. Though his asexual vision of Eden (and thus
the eschaton) arguably applies a monastic standard to a context
where it does not belong, Gregory does not see sex as sinful. It
does not transmit the guilt of original sin. Nor is it an act of lust
that confirms the self in its own delusions of grandeur. Sex is only
a problem for the soul insofar as it is one of many distractions of
the flesh. This places it in the same order of food, drink, and enter-
tainment, neither of which is sinful, but all of which are spiritual
dangerous in immoderate doses.
As an Orthodox thinker, I might be tempted to take pride in
Gregory over Augustine. Though I cannot say that Gregory’s views
on human sexuality were positive, they are perhaps less negative
than Augustine’s. Gregory may fail to appreciate fully the way that
marriage is its own kind of monastery, where members of the fami-
ly learn to deny themselves for the sake of each other and, ulti-
mately, God’s kingdom. But at least he does not make couples feel
guilty when they cleave to each other in marital concourse.
But polemical preening not makes ecumenism difficult (it con-
tributes to the continental drift of which Brown earlier spoke), it
can also keep us from seeing the irony inherent in Gregory’s theol-
ogy. For him, sex is less negative because it is less important.
Gregory appears not to have completely escaped the expectations
of the aristocracy. Like Julian of Eclanum, he believed sex was just
something people did. It lacked the spiritual gravitas Augustine saw
in it. Sex is just a bodily function that has no inherent purpose in
the divine order of creation. To wit, its purpose in that order is
conditioned on the Fall. The same is not true of Augustine, who
sees sex as a part of that original order of creation. Though the
46 See Mark D. Hart, ‘Reconciliation of Body and Soul: Gregory of

Nyssa’s Deeper Theology of Marriage,’ Theological Studies 51.3 (1990): 450–
478. See also Valerie Karras, ‘A Re-evaluation of Marriage, Celibacy, and
Irony in Gregory of Nyssa’s On Virginity’ in Journal of Early Christian
Studies 13.1 (March 1, 2005): 111–121.
SEXUAL HEALING 77
desire for sex absent the presence of lust is ambiguous (because it

is something we fallen creatures just cannot imagine), the original
goodness of sex qua sex is never in question. Its capacity to be co-
opted by sin speaks to its spiritual significance.
These considerations bring us back to Peter Brown’s conti-
nental drift. It takes a long time to move a continent, and even
longer to move it back. There has been over a thousand years of
polemicizing between East and West, and thus a thousand years of
misrepresentation and misunderstanding. My intent has not been to
reconcile the anthropologies of these two hemispheres in about
twenty pages, only to identify issues that need to be clarified if we
are going to begin to understand each other. The preceding study
thus holds a few implications for Orthodox theology. First, I think
it means we need to read Augustine more carefully. His alleged
hatred of sex is a popular myth that has little basis in fact. Cavadini
is right; to dismiss Augustine is to beg the question. Sex may be
beautiful, but it may also be selfish, and thus not as loving as we
think. Relatedly, we have something to learn from Augustine if we
are going to begin to articulate a modern Orthodox theology of
marriage and the family. Many of the sources upon which Ortho-
dox theology relies, like Gregory of Nyssa, often hold marriage to a
monastic standard that is neither biblical (e.g. Isaac’s chastity) nor
helpful to most Orthodox Christians in the modern world. We talk
about marriage as a unique path to salvation, but we are hard-
pressed to find support for that idea in sources like Gregory. 47 Au-
gustine can augment those sources both because he sees sex in es-
chatological terms, as an occasion of grace for God to bring the
kingdom, and because of the way that focusing on pride destabiliz-
es any assumptions we might make about the superiority of
monks. 48 In this way, Augustine can help us be more Orthodox.
47 Perhaps the most important text, at least in terms of popular im-

pact, on this subject is John Meyendorff’s, Marriage: An Orthodox Perspective
(Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1975).
48 In On Virginity, Augustine warned virgins that their status in the
visible church made pride a greater temptation than it was for the married.
See 31.
78 DAVID J. DUNN
On the other hand, Gregory of Nyssa may be (and already has

been) a gift to the West. Though I am inclined to disagree with his
interpretation of Eden and his three-souled psychology, the East
has long recognized the importance of asceticism in taming the
passions. From an Augustinian standpoint, we might say that ascet-
icism helps subdue the rebellious will, and thus open us to receiv-
ing divine grace. Though it was not his intent, the role Augustine
gave to pride can have the effect of making Christians naval-gazers.
Focusing on intent may cause us to forget that there are God-given
ways to discipline the will. Fasting, confession, prayer, and tempo-
rary abstinence from sexual activity (see 1 Cor. 7:5) are time-tested
ways to combat pride and pursue the good. Gregory of Nyssa’s
asceticism may starve the concupiscentia carnis, thus better enabling us
to pursue the good, true, and beautiful both in the image of God
made flesh in Jesus Christ, and in the image of God made flesh in
the marriage bed.
UNCOVERING DESIRE:
EXPLORATIONS IN EROS, AGGRESSION
AND THE QUESTION OF THEOSIS IN
MARRIAGE
PIA CHAUDHARI
INTRODUCTION
Over one thousand five hundred years ago, in Antioch, St. John
Chrysostom gave advice to men seeking to pacify an upset wife.
Speak lovingly to her, he instructed; tell her ‘that you love her more
than your own life … and that your only hope is that the two of
you pass through this life in such a way that in the world to come
you will be united in perfect love.’ Say to her ‘Our time here is
brief, and fleeting, but if we are pleasing to God, we can exchange
this life for the Kingdom to come. Then we will be perfectly one
both with Christ and each other and our pleasure will know no
bounds.’ 1
This counsel is striking in the depth and weight he gives to the
love, and pleasure in such love, between a husband and wife. No-
tably, this love does not end with death but transcends it, extending
into the Kingdom of Heaven. Elsewhere he speaks warmly of the
same bond, saying ‘the power of this love is truly stronger than any
1 St. John Chrysostom, On Marriage & Family Life, Homily 20, trans.
Roth, C.P., & Anderson, D., (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary
Press, 1986), p. 61.
79
80 PIA CHAUDHARI
passion; other desires may be strong but this one alone never fades.
This love (eros) is deeply planted within our inmost being.’ 2
We have here a strong and simple insight into the nature of
love as eros. It is deeply implanted in our inmost beings, and it is
stronger than death. How, then, does it relate to salvation? Does it
provide a clue as to the link between our embodied lives now and
the life to come? And what do we do with aggression that surfaces,
or goes underground, to bedevil the best of our attempts at union?
This paper is a brief exploration of the intertwining of eros and theo-
sis in the sacramental union that is marriage, using insights of depth
psychology and Orthodox theology. It is an attempt to uncover the
generative energy of desire, what Olivier Clement has likened to
the psychoanalytic concept of libido, 3 and perhaps further texture
the discussion of the role of desire in salvation.
THE ‘FALSE SELF’

I will start by taking what might seem to be a detour, to highlight a
small but profound work by Fr. Vasileos Thermos, entitled ‘In
Search of the Person’. In this work, Fr. Thermos, an Orthodox priest
and psychiatrist, discusses parallels between the seminal theories of
Donald Winnicott, a British psychoanalyst, and the treatises of St.
Gregory Palamas. It is a defense of the roles of the body, emotions,
and desire in the spiritual life. He describes Winnicott’s theory of
the ‘false self’, a self which is constructed in response to environ-
mental wounding or deprivation, and which appears to live but
which actually lacks ‘tissue aliveness’, being capable neither of
spontaneity nor full-bodied relationship with others or life itself.
He then turns to St. Gregory to emphasize that the mortification of
body, emotions and desires is not the proper course of asceticism.
He clarifies that the ascetic path is designed to transform desire,
not eradicate it. Using both Winnicott and Palamas, he shows that
the mortification of desire through repression or dissociation only
cripples our ability to desire anything, including God. The decep-
2 St. John Chrysostom, Homily 20, p. 44.

3 Clement, O., The Roots of Christian Mysticism, New York: New City
Press, 1993), p. 134.
EROS, AGGRESSION AND THE QUESTION OF THEOSIS 81
tion, however, is that the false self can appear to be highly religious.
According to Thermos, the false self: ‘moves on the ‘level of ‘ex-
actness’ and with a fixation on ‘purity’. For this reason it isolates
the only ‘pure’ thing which it believes itself to possess, the intellect
which it controls, and offers it to God, thereby implying that the
body, feelings and desires are ‘children of a lesser god’. One is left
wondering if the Incarnation of the Logos has been comprehended
and experienced.’ 4
Because the false self is itself a construct, it can only find res-
onance in religious constructs, not in existence itself. This leads to
a primacy of disembodied spirituality: ‘The theological foundation
of the false self comprises an essentially bodiless existence as the
zenith of self-sufficiency which flirts with the idea that one is equal
to God.’ 5 For Thermos, the emphasis on becoming a person, remi-
niscent of other Orthodox theologians such as Olivier Clement and
John Zizioulas, is integral in the journey of theosis. One might say
we are called to become more human, not less, in our journey to-
wards ‘becoming God’. This entails a life of emotions, feelings and
desire fully lived. Thermos writes: ‘Because He [God] is the source
of feeling and desiring, He calls man [or woman] to personal com-
munion by raising him [or her] to the level of a person who feels
and desires. Through this personal calling, man [or woman] is made
able to feel and desire; because He is the truth, man [or woman] can be-
come true and encounter the actual person who is the source of his
[or her] person and learn to commune.’ 6
We have here another strong insight. True self life, embodied
life, is also necessarily life lived in relationship, in communion. It is
personal relatedness that calls forth the true self. How then, does
4 Thermos, V. In Search of the Person; True and False Self According to

Donald Winnicott and St. Gregory Palamas (Montreal: Alexander Press, 2002).
Interestingly, Thermos also notes here, drawing on Winnicott as well, that
‘in the great majority of cases the depreciation of the body in men is con-
nected with the depreciation or even fear of women, since women remind
them of their bodily drives.’ p. 51.
5 Thermos, Search of the Person, p. 61.
6 Thermos, Search of the Person, p. 67 (italics and parenthetical addi-
tions mine).
82 PIA CHAUDHARI
marital life explore and expand on the boundaries of holiness, if

holiness is defined as by Olivier Clement in saying ‘…holiness is
life in its fullness. And there is holiness in each human being who
participates vigorously in life. There is holiness not only in the great
ascetic but in the creator of beauty, in the seeker after truth who
heeds the mystery of creation … in the deep love between a man
and a woman…’ 7
MARRIAGE AS SACRAMENT
The Orthodox marriage is sacramental. As Orthodox theologian
John McGuckin writes: ‘…many Orthodox theologians have linked
the couple’s journey towards union in flesh and spirit, with a trope
of the perichoresis of the Persons of the Holy Trinity, radiating out
essential unity in their harmony. The Trinity itself, the goal of all
Christian life, is the pattern and aspiration of the mystical unity that
the marriage can bear witness to. Such a mystery of union is only
possible because of the indwelling Trinity.’ 8 Such a marriage re-
quires ascesis of both partners, hence the Orthodox understanding
of the martyrdom of marriage, where in putting on the mind of
Christ, the phronema Christou, each partner submits to the willing-
ness to accept the death of self for the sake of the loved one. 9 The
ascetic struggle McGuckin outlines is the ‘constant struggle to
make all things in a Christian life charged with light and gracious-
ness, not least the powerful forces of the desire for acquisition and
the desires of the flesh … But the Gospel … does not presume
that one should be devoid of desire: it is the use to which the fun-
damental drives of human energy are placed that is in question.’ 10
We see here a return to the power of desire, properly trans-
formed, as an active driver in the sacrament of marriage. In this
context, sexuality itself is transformed: ‘The sacred mystery of
Christian marriage sings a different song to the anxious (and often
7 Clement, Christian Mysticism, p. 265.

8 McGuckin, J.A., The Orthodox Church (Malden, MA; Oxford: Black-
well Pub. Ltd., 2011), p. 314.
9 McGuckin, The Orthodox Church, p. 319.
10 McGuckin, The Orthodox Church, p. 315.
violent) subtext of sexuality as the world knows it. The key issue, of
course, is the presence of joy … [without] this renovatory ‘mind of
Christ’ at the core of a Christian marriage, the very concept of two
human beings staying with one another for decades would be un-
imaginably boring and suffocating. With it, the love deepens day by
day, for those who have the eyes to see, and reveals new layers of
the significance of being.’ 11
To avoid the pitfall of ‘false self’ religiosity, a confusion of the
phronema Christou with a life of stultifying ‘shoulds’, this radiant con-
ceptualization must also be grounded in the life of the body, in the
emotions and desires. Yet, is it not here that we risk a marriage of
what Orthodox theologian John Behr has called a ‘companionate’
or ‘unitive’ marriage, one that is self-centered, rather than a mar-
riage with Christ at the center? 12 The tension of embracing desire
becomes a question of discernment as to when desire is ‘disor-
dered’, to use the language of the Fathers, and the work of uncov-
ering and living from God-given desire. If we look to marriage
from another angle, I believe we can see more concretely how this
may happen, how eros does not lead to fusion, nor true desire to
self-gratification. On the contrary, I would argue that eros can only
truly thrive in differentiation thus allowing for relatedness, and de-
sire is the deep reaching out from self to ‘Other’, which actually
bespeaks the end of pathological narcissism or religious solipsism.
MARRIAGE AS CONJUNCTION OF OPPOSITES

Jungian psychoanalyst and noted theological scholar Ann Belford
Ulanov writes about marriage from a depth psychological perspec-
tive, putting the alchemical notion of coniunctio, the conjunction of
opposites, at the center, and using object-relations theory to eluci-
date the kinds of interactions that take place between the couple:
‘The coniunctio archetype [in marriage] … [brings] the interpene-
tration, differentiation, and integration of elements in each person’s
psyche [to] be worked on, as well as the meeting and matching and
11McGuckin, The Orthodox Church, p. 317.

12Behr, J., ‘Marriage and Asceticism,’ Sobornost 29:2 (2007): 24–50, p.
24 & p. 49.
84 PIA CHAUDHARI
mating of all these elements between them. Such a joining is inti-

mate at a very deep level, causing radical intrapsychic changes as
well as changes in the most habitual behavior.’ 13
For Ulanov, such a marriage does not avoid conflict, but uti-
lizes areas of tension to press through to the deeper issues that
each partner is called to work on. She uses Jungian language of the
‘Self’, representing the whole psyche of each person – conscious
and unconscious, as well as something more that gives access to a
sense of God – to ask what is the ‘Self’ engineering in each person.
One could also ask, using McGuckin’s language, to ‘what new
depths of being’ is each person being called.
Both partners commit to engaging in ‘the work of love’ which
Ulanov describes as ‘making space for its own flowing from surface
to depths, from each to other and back again, planting the world,
making it bloom, building a bridge that extends beyond the grave.’ 14 (italics
mine). The hard work of differentiating and consciously relating to
what she calls ‘contaminating elements’ rather than repressing them
or identifying with them (both of which could be liked to distor-
tions of the passions), yields the reward of ‘a union of the different
elements within each person as well as a union between them that
supports each in being entirely his or her own true self.’ 15 Aliveness
floods in.
Such a union, she writes, ‘makes for fission, not fusion, for
fire, not boredom … neither is allowed to clamp down on personal
impulse for the sake of compromise with reality demands to the
point where they lose access to the creative imagination in their
marriage. Both seek the alive and real in themselves and in each
other … [such a couple is] a small example of how to be passionate
and alive in a permanent relationship, imaginatively making the
world.’ 16
13 Ulanov, A.B., ‘Coniunctio and Marriage’, in The Spiritual Aspects of

Clinical Work (Einsiedeln: Daimon; Enfield: Airlift, 2004), p. 132.
14 Ulanov, ‘Coniunctio and Marriage’, p. 136.
TRANSFORMATION OF AGGRESSION
Paradoxically, this process of full commitment to engaging with
self and other leads to a progressive purging of the ego of posses-
sive and power motives. Each has to learn to give up ‘sadistic grati-
fication’, ‘fighting dirty’, in order to harness the tremendous energy
and aggression underlying these actions and put it to different use.
The concept of aggression here is not used in the colloquial sense,
but rather to denote a kind of primal energy which is morally neu-
tral, in much the same way some of the Fathers described the in-
herent neutrality of the passions, while being keenly aware of the
possibility of their misuse. 17 She writes: ‘We need aggression to
focus on the true worth of the other, to dig it out, and to work to
restore it, and to differentiate that effort from trying to impose our image on
the other … a transcendent presence lives in the other … [who is]
made in the image of God … we dig down to it and excavate it …
the support must be vigorous, summoning, lavish, and aimed right
at the center of the other person’s existence the way the other is
connected to all existence. Betrayals in marriage usually issue from
betrayal of this deeper center.’ 18 This is the opposite of a desire that
uses the other as a ‘self-object’, or subjective-object, but is a desire
that recognizes the other as subject in their own right. As Clement
reminds us ‘…we perceive in [the other] an irreducible personal
existence, beyond limitations and errors, beyond even the disap-
pointment we may have felt for the moment. The other is in the image
of God, not of us.’ 19
‘RUTHLESSNESS’, REVELATION OF THE OTHER, AND THE

END OF THE ‘FALSE SELF’
In such a marriage, two extraordinary healings can take place. Ag-
gression, so often feared as destructive, can become ‘the means
through which we secure the energy of living support,’ 20 and is re-
paired as it is used to explore and unearth and sustain the best in
17 Cf, for example. St. Maximus, On the Utility of the Passions.

18 Ulanov, ‘Coniuncto and Marriage’, p. 141 (italics mine).
19 Clement, Christian Mysticism, p. 279 (italics mine).
20 Ulanov, ‘Coniuncto and Marriage’, p. 142.
86 PIA CHAUDHARI
the other. It is, of course, still painful to fight, but the fighting can
be ultimately constructive, rather than destructive. She writes ‘we
know now that aggression can serve love as well as destroy it.’ 21
The other area of healing lies through the experience of what
psychoanalyst Winnicott termed ‘ruthlessness’. 22 Like aggression,
this is a word that colloquially has negative connotations, but which
in the depth psych-ological world is descriptive rather than pejora-
tive. It describes the direct movement of going towards an object
of desire. It does not fear one’s own force of being; it trusts the
other to survive the full on engagement with one’s own energy. At
an unconscious level, something astonishing happens which is that
when we do not seek ‘to control through projected images of who
we want the other to be, or fear the other might be, or need the
other to be, or think the other needs us to be. We let be. And we
discover, uncover, greet the one who is left after our projections
have been destroyed … this may happen when the other disap-
points us: he or she failed to live up to our idealized image and the
image is destroyed. Thereby we release ourselves and the other to
find out who is actually there. If we are using our aggression to
reach the best self of the other, this is all gain, no loss … we may
have lost a fantasy but we have gained a reality with which to inter-
act and in which to unfold our own self.’ 23
St. Maximus the Confessor wrote: ‘The aim of faith is the true
revelation of its object. And the true revelation of faith’s object is
ineffable communion, with him, and this communion is the return
of believers to their beginning as much as to their end … and
therefore the satisfaction of desire.’ 24
The true revelation of the object, if we are to learn that it ex-
ists as subject in its own right, outside our unconscious fantasies of
omnipotence, requires that we live ruthlessly – not in the colloquial
sense of the term – but in the sense of going all out in our move-
ments towards the other, not withholding our being. We learn to
survive the destruction of our fantasies because in exchange for
21 Ulanov, ‘Coniuncto and Marriage’, p. 142.

fantasy we encounter the reality of an ‘Other’ with whom we can

have a real relationship. I believe it may well be the case that while a con-
scious fear of desire can stem from the awareness that desire distorted turns to
lust and acquisitiveness, a fear which nestles neatly with the sincere attempt at
‘moral living’, the deeper unconscious fear of desire is the fear of the end of nar-
Genuine desire drives us out of ourselves towards the other, and

cissism, omnipotence, or what theologically could be termed as self-idolatry.
any such encounter with a real Other must mean the experiential
end of our illusions that we stand at the center of the universe, in-
violate and invulnerable – indeed, immortal. It is the end of the false
self. To encounter Otherness is to encounter our own limits, but it
is also to encounter the possibility of true love between two who
are other to each other and yet connected through the power of
eros, living out of desire.
MARRIAGE AND THEOSIS

For St. Maximus, the process of theosis is the union through desire
with God, and the increasing identification with God through shar-
ing in the life of God. Marriage is not the same process, yet the
schooling of eros, aggression and ruthlessness in pursuit of love
may uncover desire in us in such a way that personal communion
with God becomes deeper as does communion with husband or
wife.
Purging the relationship of ‘contaminating energies’ requires
self-examination, and would be strengthened by repentance, con-
fession and healing; Sacraments in the Church, and processes also
deeply known to depth psychology. The circling of the relationship
around the larger questions of ‘what is the Self engineering’ creates
a conscious awareness of both immanent and transcendent energy
in which the couple shares. It is a central locus of conscious en-
gagement and hard work, driven by love and desire, that will de-
mand the death of the narcissistic false self, and endlessly reveal
new levels of true life. Held within the genuine desire to grow in
the phronema Christou, and participation in the ever unfolding life of
the Trinity, such an understanding can allow the totality of each
person to be brought into the marital union, not just their personas
or the parts deemed acceptable by the other. Could not such a mar-
riage, with Christ in its midst, become a microcosm of the maxim
of salvation of the Fathers: ‘that which is not assumed is not
healed’?
88 PIA CHAUDHARI
This is no longer a false self religiosity where the collective

‘superego’ is placed at the center (or conflicting superegos fought
over), but rather a shared devotion to the Living God, who calls us
forth in unexpected ways, heralds the new, and brings life where
there was death. Deification is not the annihilation of human interaction,
but it’s deepening. As Clement elucidates: ‘To be deified is therefore
to become someone living with a life stronger than death, since the
Word is life itself and the Spirit is the one who brings life. All hu-
man possibilities are brought into play. The structures of thought,
feeling, friendship, creativity, while remaining only human struc-
tures, receive an infinite capacity for light and joy and love.’ 25
Such a marriage, Ulanov writes, ‘[pulls] the world in and
pull[s] the two persons into the world. Why this is so has to do
with the center that goes on being constructed. That core of free-
dom keeps producing new forms of itself that insist on going out
to others and pulling others into it … This is the greater coniunc-
tio, that does not breakdown but breaks through the bounds of our
ordinary perceiving in time and space to the presence of the be-
yond. The cause and effect of the conjunction of opposites is love,
a love in time and outside of time … To be aware of this dimen-
sion is directly to participate in mystery…’ 26
This understanding of the embodied relationship between two
people, circling around the transcendent and taken up into it, with-
out losing its own particularity, is echoed in the resurrection theol-
ogy of Clement. He writes: ‘Resurrection begins already here be-
low. For the early Church a deeply spiritual man [or woman] is one
is already ‘risen again’. The truest moments of our lives, those lived
in the invisible, have a resurrection flavor. Resurrection begins every
time that a person, breaking free from conditionings, transfigures them …
Resurrection begins every time that a person plunges this world’s
opaque, divisive, death-riddled modality into its Christ-centered
modality, into that ‘ineffable and marvelous fire hidden in the es-
sence of things, as in the Burning Bush.’ 27

27 Clement, Christian Mysticism, p. 268 (italics mine).
Paradoxically, it becomes clear that we need to live in and

through our bodies, feelings and emotions in order to reach to that
which transcends our bodies and transforms our desiring. The eros
spoken of by St. John Chrysostom builds a bridge from this life to
the next, from body instinct to spirit. We have to dig down in order
to see the heavens more clearly. We have to grab hold of our ag-
gression and ruthless energies in order to perceive the other more
truly and to love more deeply. Orthodox tradition, theology and
wisdom, and the insights of depth psychology, illuminate the
enormous healing possibilities contained within the sacrament of
marriage; the possibilities to transform aggression, break through
narcissistic fantasies of omnipotence, and to uncover desire in or-
der to unleash love – love for God, for each other, and for life.
CONTEXTUALITY AND NORMALITY:
ORTHODOX VISIONS OF HUMAN
SEXUALITY AND MARRIAGE
DREW MAXWELL
There can be little doubt that the Patristic revival in the Orthodox
tradition during the last century has borne tremendous fruit both
Deacon Drew Maxwell in terms of the Church’s modern theologi-
cal reflection and the pastoral implications for the faithful. 1 The
concomitant, and sometimes competitive, explosion of Athonite
monasticism throughout the world, but particularly in America, has
provided much of the same in many respects. However, perhaps
one of the most puzzling results of these recent developments has
been the effect both movements have had upon the Church’s un-
derstanding of marriage, and within marriage, the role of sexuality
and intimacy in the life of the everyday Christian striving towards
Christ while living in the world. An apparently negative view of
sexuality, which historically emanated out of a cloistered and mo-
nastic vision of communal life, has managed to sidle its way into
the heart of Orthodox homes, causing husbands and wives to ques-
tion how, or even if, the Church values their intimate and sexual
relationship in particular, or the sacramental quality of their union
in general.
1 See for instance, Andrew Louth, ‘The Patristic Revival and Its
Protagonists,’ in The Cambridge Companion to Orthodox Christian Theology, ed.
Mary B. Cunningham and Elizabeth Theokritoff (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2008), 188–202.
91
92 DREW MAXWELL
Compounding this situation is the reaction that many of the

faithful have had to this turn of events. Some, in an effort to de-
fend the very monastic foundations and patristic texts that fostered
their entrance into or rebirth within the Orthodox tradition, have
stridently advocated views of family life and intimacy appropriate
for the monastics and clergy rather than laity in an effort to erect a
bulwark against secular forces they deem a threat to the founda-
tions of the faith. Others, hoping to find a healthy vision of Or-
thodox love and intimacy, have mindlessly attacked monasticism
and patristic theology as the soiled fruits of an unbalanced mindset.
A more appropriate response, however, is one in which the
various and seemingly conflicting visions of sexuality presented
throughout the ages of the Orthodox tradition are approached
within their context, humbly considered, and with sincere discern-
ment valued for the wisdom that they bear or discarded on account
of their inability to provide life. In a limited way, the following is an
attempt to be true to such a vision. By analyzing several key Or-
thodox texts concerned with intimacy and sexuality, it is my sincere
desire that an original patristic view of lay Orthodox sexuality and
intimacy can be initiated and encouraged.
It is certainly true that Patristic tradition provides us with a
bountiful yet (apparently) lopsided vision of sexuality. To begin
with, the rather poor vision of marriage that one might infer from
some affirmations made by the traditional and popular purveyors
of Patristic wisdom can posit a stumbling block for the Orthodox
couple. For instance, consider the following extract by St. Gregory
Palamas in the Philokalia, a common father read by many an every-
day Orthodox Christian:
Married people can also strive for this purity, but only with the
greatest difficulty. For this reason all who from their youth
have by God’s mercy glimpsed that eternal life with the mind’s
keen eye, and who have longed for it blessings, avoid getting
married, since likewise in the resurrection, as the Lord said,
people neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are ‘as the
angels of God’ (Matt. 22:30). Therefore those who wish to be-
come ‘as the angels of God’ will even in this present life, like
the sons of resurrection, rightly place themselves above bodily
intercourse. Moreover, the occasion for sinning was first pro-
vided by the wife. Consequently those who do not wish ever to
ORTHODOX VISIONS OF HUMAN SEXUALITY AND MARRIAGE 93
give the devil any way of catching hold of them should not
marry. 2
Here St. Gregory suggests that a holy life is one that is ‘above’ bod-
ily intercourse, and that living within a marriage, even presumably a
marriage guided by chastity, is tantamount to allowing the devil to
catch hold of you. More troubling perhaps, however, is the paucity
of positive Orthodox witness to marriage in the modern context,
even, surprisingly, within the pages of texts meant to strengthen
families! Take, for instance, this example from Demetrios Constan-
telos, a writer who attempted to illustrate the positive aspects of
Christian marriage within an Orthodox context: ‘We have already
noted that marriage is honored as a natural, God-given institution,
and that virginity or celibacy is viewed as a state above nature, a
special gift from God bestowed on a few.’ 3 There are a few things
that seem problematic in this statement. Firstly, The idea that
somehow celibacy is above nature, which then makes marriage a
poverty-filled category of ‘natural’ is far afield of a traditional Or-
thodox understanding of nature; and like a sibling at Christmas
who has merely been given socks after watching the opening of a
particularly exciting present by a brother, the married person is
meant to understand that their ‘institution’ bears no resemblance to
the ‘gift’ so especially given to a monk or nun. 4
Returning to the Patristic legacy, however, we can see that St.
Gregory is by no means unique in his rhetorical assessment of mar-
riage and sexuality. The patristic, and mostly monastic, literature is
deeply suspicious of any talk of sexuality, preferring instead to not
do discuss the matters of sexual ethos. Take for instance the mus-
ings of Isaiah the Solitary on sensual pleasure.
2 Gregory Palamas, To the Most Reverend Nun Xenia. Taken from:

Philokalia (London: Faber & Faber, 1995), vol. 4, pp. 300–301.
3 Demetrios J. Constantelos, Marriage, Sexuality and Celibacy: A Greek
Orthodox Perspective (Minneapolis: Light and Life Publishing, 1975), 71.

4 This is to say nothing of the fact that Constantelos has completely
reversed the role of gift-giver and gift-receiver in the relationship

established by the human choice of celibacy!
94 DREW MAXWELL
Here St. Isaiah numbers sensual pleasure with great caution. It

is presented as something which imprisons and perhaps makes it
impossible to experience true worship. St. Mark the Ascetic is more
succinct. ‘All vice is caused by self-esteem and sensual pleasure; you
cannot overcome passion without hating them.’ 5 Admittedly, one
might, and certainly can, quibble with the notion of sensual pleas-
ure being much broader than sexuality in and of itself. However,
nothing could be clearer than the words of St. Neilos the Ascetic in
the following passage which encapsulates much of monastic think-
ing on sexuality:
Do animals demand a luxury diet? What chefs and pastry-
cooks pander to their bellies? Do they not prefer the original
simplicity, eating the herbs of the field, content with whatever
is at hand, drinking water from springs – and this only infre-
quently? In this way they diminish sexual lust and do not in-
flame their desires with fatty foods. They become conscious of
the difference between male and female only during the one
season of the year ordained by the law of nature for them to
mate in, so as to propagate and continue their species. The rest
of the year they keep away from one another as if they had al-
together forgotten any such appetite. 6
There can be no doubt, of course, that St. Neilos was encouraging
such a perspective for humanity in this passage. In St. Neilos’ ideal
vision of engenderedness and sexuality, it is best if male and female
rarely recognize the uniqueness of their gender, and sexual activity
is purely a mechanical act meant for the survival of the species.
It is noteworthy that the vision of marriage and sexuality put
forth in the very limited selections above, which, however, repre-
sent a general patristic and monastic trend, may perhaps go beyond
Bible and reflect monastic practices introduced within a different
cultural and historical horizon. What is found in the biblical canon
is a an affirming notion of marriage and sexuality which values the
5 St. Mark the Ascetic, On the Spiritual Law. Taken from: Philokalia,
vol. 1, p. 117.
6 St. Neilos the Ascetic, Ascetic Discourse. Taken from: Philokalia, vol.
1, pp. 246–247.
engendered quality of humanity and is far less willing to circum-

scribe them within a system of rigid monastic sexual ethos. Paul
Evdokimov eloquently pointed out this fact over thirty years ago.
‘The Gospel contains no ‘ethical system.’ The surprising newness
of its judgments arises from the fact that they refer not to moral
principles, but to the absolute value of the Kingdom and to the
love of the King.’ 7 When one considers this foundational insight,
several key scriptural passages related to marriage and sexuality, and
their deliberate nuanced nature, enlighten us to a different, life-
giving vision of intimacy from the ones portrayed above.
Of course the most important biblical foundation for the
sanctity and creative nature of marriage and sexuality is the passage
in Genesis when God forms woman out of the rib of Adam. [Gen.
2:23–24] The clear revelation that sexual differentiation occurs be-
fore any ultimate fall of humanity questions the validity of an atti-
tude that all humanity (i.e. without qualification) is better off ignor-
ing engend-eredness. But more significant is Adam’s immediate
response to the advent of woman. He sings. I often say to my pa-
rishioners when they ask how an Orthodox person is made a saint
in our tradition, ‘How do we know when someone is a saint? We
sing about them, that’s how we know!’ The same is true of this
most glorious moment of creation. ‘This at last is bone of my bone
and flesh of my flesh; this one shall be called Woman, for out of
Man this one was taken.’ One can sense in Adam’s hymn a sigh of
relief, a resting in contentment, and a recognition of wholeness.
Humanity is at its most complete when it is in perfect concert with
itself and with God. This, in fact, is the place to which all humanity
erotically, that is to say completely full with desire, longs to return;
and it is in Christ and His way of salvation that this return is made
possible. This is why it is not surprising that later biblical commen-
tary on this passage of Genesis reflects a hushed sense of joy and
unity. Jesus says in the Gospel of Mark, ‘But from the beginning of
creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man
shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the
7 Evdokimov P., The Sacrament of Love: The Nuptial Mystery in the Light
of the Orthodox Tradition (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press,
1985), p. 161.
96 DREW MAXWELL
two will become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one
flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together let no one sepa-
rate.’ [Mark 10:6–9] Here we find enshrined in the words of Our
Savior a godly sanctification of marital intimacy and love in which
sexuality brings complete unity; a unity intended by God in the
beginning.
The words of St. Paul in Ephesians complete this picture. ‘For
no one ever hates his own body, but he nourishes and tenderly
cares for it, just as Christ does for the Church, because we are
members of His body. ‘For this reason a man will leave his father
and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two will become one
flesh.’ This is a great mystery, and I am applying it to Christ and the
Church. Each of you, however, should love his wife as himself, and
a wife should respect her husband.’ [Eph. 5:29–33] The attempt to
overly spiritualize this passage so as to limit the sincere linkage be-
tween the marital bond and the bond of God with humanity is
perhaps illegitimate. The great mystery consists in the return to true
Paradise in which communion with the human other is done in
concert with, and facilitates, communion with the Ultimate Other.
The salvation of humanity lies in our ability, together in commun-
ion, listen for the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at
the time of the evening breeze and not hide, but come forth in uni-
ty to be one with God.
Archdeacon John Chryssavgis reminds us of this when he
turns to the sacramental service of marriage and by carefully look-
ing at the text determines that the Church values sexuality within
marriage based upon the prayers of the service. He writes, ‘The
ascetic aspect of marriage is further shown in the prayer asking for
the Archangel Michael to prepare the marital chamber. Only a
Church that believes in the sanctity and integrity of the body and
the world could either imagine an angel preparing the bed of the
couple, or else implore for the preservation of an undefiled mar-
riage bed.’ 8
What, then, shall we say of our monastic and patristic texts on
marriage where its rigorous ethos seem to undermine the sacra-
8 Chryssavgis, J., Love, Sexuality and the Sacrament of Marriage

(Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1996), p. 23.
mental status of marriage? The fact is that we need to interpret all

of our texts, not just the difficult ones, within the context in which
they were produced and disseminated. It seems like such an ele-
mentary or basic principle in the academic world from which many
of us come, but amongst the Orthodox faithful, the fact remains
that a contextualized reading is not only uncommon but often un-
heard of. Our people often choose to apply the wisdom of the fa-
thers to their everyday lives with nary a care for the fact that much
of our spiritual wisdom is deeply contextualized and necessarily
needs to be presented to them by a faithful guide.
When one understands the passages at the outset of this
communication in the light of the monastic communities in which
they were produced and expounded, a different nuance emerges,
and therefore a lessening of judgment is in order. As an example,
let us return to the passage given at the outset of the communica-
tion. This comment from St. Gregory Palamas provides an oppor-
tunity for further reflection:
Married people can also strive for this purity, but only with the
greatest difficulty. For this reason all who from their youth
have by God’s mercy glimpsed that eternal life with the mind’s
keen eye, and who have longed for it blessings, avoid getting
married, since likewise in the resurrection, as the Lord said,
people neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are ‘as the
angels of God’ (Matt. 22:30). Therefore those who wish to be-
come ‘as the angels of God’ will even in this present life, like
the sons of resurrection, rightly place themselves above bodily
intercourse. Moreover, the occasion for sinning was first pro-
vided by the wife. Consequently those who do not wish ever to
give the devil any way of catching hold of them should not
marry. 9
We know that this text was written by St. Gregory to a nun named
Xenia. The only key to the context other than this fact is that this
particular nun seems to have been some kind of guide for the
daughters of the Emperor, who must have been Emperor An-
9 St. Gregory Palamas, To the Most Reverend Nun Xenia. Taken from:
Philokalia, vol. 4, pp. 300–301.
98 DREW MAXWELL
dronikos III. 10 In this context, it is natural to argue, at the outset,

that St. Gregory meant to extol the life of the nun, and especially
the virginity of the nun, for the sake of Xenia herself. Additionally,
might we not deduce that St. Gregory had a secondary motive of
encouraging the daughters of the emperor to move towards a life in
the Church dedicated to God? Was there an underlying political
dimension to this letter? All of these considerations cause us to
pause when asserting that such a letter should provide a basic guid-
ance to a married person in the modern Orthodox context.
There is no better opportunity, in fact, to see the variability of
the Fathers’ opinions regarding the delicate topic of sexuality and
marriage; and particularly the impact of context upon those opin-
ions, than in the life of St. John Chrysostom. While a full picture of
his views cannot be provided in the context of this short commu-
nication, a brief overview of the work of Professor David Ford
drives the point home suitably. In his work entitled Women and Men
in the Early Church: The Full Views of St. John Chrysostom, Professor
Ford clearly and extensively illuminates the evolution of St. John’s
views regarding marriage, sexuality and intimacy through an analy-
sis of his writings over the full span of his life. What one discovers
is that St. John views evolved from a rather ascetic set of presump-
tions about marriage in his younger years as a solitary monastic, to
a much more positive and life-giving perspective in his latter years
as deacon, priest, bishop and patriarch. For instance, St. John has
been criticized by some intellectuals for his negative view of mar-
riage based upon his early, and oft-read, treatise On Virginity. 11
However, Ford argues instead that if one contextualizes St. John’s
words and understands his vision of marriage and sexuality holisti-
cally, a condemnation of his views is out of order. Dr. Ford writes:
It is crucial, however, that these early works be considered in
their proper context. They were written with the monastic fer-
vor with which Chrysostom himself, while in his late twenties
10 See the note of the editors in Philokalia, vol. 4, p. 289, and also the
words of St. Gregory himself in section 7 of the letter itself.
11 Clark, E., Women in the Early Church (Wilmington, DE: Michael
Glazier, Inc., 1983), p. 55.

and early thirties, spent several years as a recluse in the caves

near Antioch … Quite naturally, writers like … St. John
Chrysostom warmly extolled the merits of virginity. Naturally
as well in such an enterprise, marriage – the obvious contrast
to the celibate life – is not depicted in glowing terms … It is
quite understandable, then, that Chrysostom would sound neg-
ative toward marriage in these early writings. What is remarka-
ble is that, for one so enamored with and committed to the
celibate life himself, in his later writings, done in the midst of
his cosmopolitan priestly ministry in Antioch and Constanti-
nople, he presents [a] highly exalted view of marriage… 12
While Professor Ford does an admirable job of laying out the evi-
dence in his own work, two simple examples from St. John, courte-
sy of his own collation, are illustrative of the saint’s case. From On
Virginity we read:
Virginity is as much superior (kretton) to marriage as heaven is
to earth, as the angels are to men, and, to use far stronger lan-
guage, it is more superior still … Angels neither marry nor are
given in marriage [Matt. 22:30]; this is true of the virgin. The
angels have stood continuously by God and serve him; so does
the virgin. 13
From much later on in his ministry we read the following:
And how do they become one flesh? Just as you should take
the purest part of gold, and mingle it (anamixes) with other
gold, so in truth here also the woman receiving the richest part
(piotaton) fused by pleasure (hedones) nourishes and cherishes
it, and contributing something from herself (ta parheautes
syneisenengkamene), returns it back as a human being. And
the child is a sort of bridge, so that the three become one flesh,
the child connecting each other on either side. For as two cit-
12 Ford, D. Women and Men in the Early Church: The Full Views of St.
John Chrysostom (South Canaan, PA: St. Tikhon’s Seminary Press, 1995),
pp. 76–78.
13 St. John Chrysostom, On Virginity, 41.1. Taken from: Ford, D.,
Women and Men. p. 76.

100 DREW MAXWELL
ies, which a river divides through, become one city if a bridge

connects them on both sides, so is it in this case – and yet
more, since the very bridge here is formed from the substance
(ousias) of each side. 14
As we can see, Chrysostom likely underwent a certain development
in his thinking and teaching about marriage and sexuality through-
out his life. However, this is not to say that we ought to neglect his
earlier work which could often be critical of marriage. Understood
within its context, such work had life-giving properties for the mo-
nastics with which he was in constant dialogue.
The fact is, we would do well to use a guiding principle estab-
lished by Metropolitan Kallistos. In discussing the relationship of
marriage and monasticism he writes:
The two complement each other, much as the kataphatic and
the apophatic ways balance and complete one another in the-
ology. ‘The kataphatic or affirmative way points to the pres-
ence of God the Creator in all created things, in all images and
symbols. The apophatic or negative way insists that God is in-
finitely above and beyond all that He has made; and in the
name of what is greater, it puts aside that which is less, reach-
ing out beyond every image and symbol and plunging into the
divine darkness. The one attains to a mediated, the other to an
immediate, knowledge of the living God. Both are necessary to
a sound and balanced theology. A totally kataphatic theology
would risk degenerating into idolatry; an altogether apophatic
theology would end up as a mere emptiness, a kind of intellec-
tual nihilism.
How does this apply to marriage and monasticism? Both are sac-
raments of love. But what the married couple realizes in a mediated
way, the monk seeks to achieve directly. In marriage, as in
kataphatic or symbolical theology, the archetype is attained through
the ikon. Husband and wife express their love for God through
and in their love for one another … In monasticism, as in
St. John Chrysostom, Homily 12 on Colossians. Taken from: Ford,

14
Women and Men, 57.

apophatic theology, the ikon is laid aside: love for God is expressed
directly, not through the image or medium of another human per-
son. Like the two ways in theology, the two forms of love complete
and balance one another. 15
After this brief overview of the Church’s multivalent view of
marriage and sexuality, Metropolitan Kallistos’ words provide a
simple and clear exposition of the mind of the Church. It is a bal-
anced and healthy perspective which understands that marriage and
monasticism provide the borders in which sexuality is played out in
a healthy and life-giving way. That is, sexuality is a great mystery of
God, and like all of God’s mysteries it is bound up and defined by
love; in this case erotic love. This deep and abiding longing for the
Ultimate Other finds its deepest expression within both the life of
marriage and the life of monasticism.
The last thorny issue that must be addressed, then, are those
contemporary views of marriage which cannot be understood to be
life-giving because the context in which they are expounded is
purely monastic and thus cannot be applied, without qualification,
in the lives of laity. One chief example can be used in this regard.
The very familiar text of the Elder Ephraim of Arizona entitled
Counsels from the Holy Mountain holds within its pages a particularly
relevant point towards this view of marriage. It reads:
Girls desert their beloved parents and brothers and relatives,
and through marriage cleave to a mortal man and bear with his
weaknesses, his bad manners, his passions, and sometimes (if
he has a bad character) even with his beatings and curses.
Nevertheless, they do not leave their husband because they re-
spect the bond of the sacrament of marriage, or because they
want financial support and security. But you, on the contrary,
have married the incorruptible Bridegroom of Christ and have
deserted parents and all the good things of this vain world in
order to be united with Christ through a spiritual marriage.
15 Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, ‘The Monastic Life as a Sacrament

of Love.’ Church and Theology: An Ecclesiastical and Theological Review of the
Archbishopric of Thyateira and Great Britain, vol. 2 (London: Thyateira House,
1981), 697.
102 DREW MAXWELL
You lovingly follow Jesus, Who for our sake endured the
Cross and death and gave you an immense dowry: the King-
dom of Heaven. Although you were poor and dirty, He made
you into queens to enjoy in heaven more glory and delight than
emperors.
How incomparably the grace of virginity surpasses marriage, and
how much loftier is the gift of the mystery of the mystical spiritual
wedding with the Bridegroom of Christ than a carnal wedding! And
this is because the Bridegroom is heavenly, spotless, eternal – God!
We see that the wife in common marriages becomes a heroine of
patience by enduring the sorrows, the worries and difficulties of
married life, the passions, the beatings from her husband, and the
difficulties beyond her strength in raising and fostering her chil-
dren. So then – alas! – how reprehensible we are when we don’t
have patience, forcefulness, obedience, and everything that the easy
yoke of the sweetest Jesus calls for, to a greater degree than a mar-
ried woman does! 16
Certain negative notions of marriage contained within this
passage reflect some of the opinions of the fathers of the Early
Church. However, as we have mentioned, the Patristic legacy was
one meant, at least originally by its authors, as the exclusive wis-
dom of the monastic tradition. In cases where wisdom was meant
for the cathedral and urban churches, we often see an entirely dif-
ferent tone applied. The work of Elder Ephraim, however, while it
may have originally been given in a purely monastic context, clearly
is reproduced as intended to be heard by the Orthodox faithful lay
people of America and beyond. Since its translation into English, it
has undergone two printings within the life of the Geronda. It is a
regular occurrence that the faithful visiting St. Anthony’s Monas-
tery in Arizona walk away with this volume of the Geronda’s wis-
dom tucked beneath their arms.
If we seek to lead the Church with discernment, it is up to the
faithful scholars and clergy of the Church to clearly delineate the
context and application of certain predominantly monastic ethical
Elder Ephraim, Counsels from the Holy Mountain (Florence, AZ:

16
Greek Orthodox Monastery, 1999), pp. 74–75.

principles; and to also incorporate an ethos appropriate for married

couples which highlights the sacramental value of their union. This
general guideline, in fact, does not simply apply to the scholarly
reassessment of monastic literature. There is certainly anti-monastic
literature strewn about the internet in the blogs of self-proclaimed
experts who deride and defame celibacy on a regular basis. The
enterprise of faithful teaching involves a complete vision of one’s
topic and a firm grasp of the contextual and historical background
which informs and shapes the stream of wisdom that comprises
our Orthodox Tradition. If we are to establish a full and faithful
corpus of Orthodox teaching on marriage we must move with hu-
mility and parrhesia, sympathy and criticism, and most especially, the
gift of love from Christ which undergirds all of our efforts, and
especially all of transfiguring creation.
MARRIAGE AND THE EUCHARIST:
FROM UNITY TO SCHIZOPHRENIA –
THE POSITIVE THEOLOGY OF
MARRIAGE AND ITS DISTORTION FROM
AN EASTERN ORTHODOX POINT OF
VIEW
FR. PHILIP ZYMARIS

It is clear that from the very beginning the Church had a positive
view of marriage. Beginning with Holy Scripture and specifically
with the book of Genesis, it is evident that the gender distinction
of male-female and sexuality is seen in the context of the creation
of the human being in the image and likeness of God. In the New
Testament the first miracle signaling the commencement of the
mission of Christ was the marriage at Cana, 1 which rendered the
presence of Christ as a given in Christian marriage, as does also St.
Paul’s description of marriage as a ‘great mystery,’ analogous to that
of the relationship of Christ with His Church. 2 This sacramental
presence of Christ in marriage was reflected in the celebration of
marriage in the context of the Eucharist, as was the case also for all
other rites that we today call ‘sacraments.’ 3 Paradoxically, this orig-
1 John 2:1–11.
2 Eph. 5:20–33.
3 For the connection of all sacraments with the eucharist, see N. Mi-
losevic, To Christ and the Church: The Divine Eucharist as the All-Encompassing
Mystery of the Church, (Los Angeles: Sebastian Press, 2012); id. The Holy
Eucharist as the Center of Divine Worship: The Connection of the Sacraments to the
105
106 PHILIP ZYMARIS
inal eucharistic context of marriage, taken for granted in the early

Church, eventually eroded to the extent where marital life, while
ostensibly honored as a sacramental state, was eventually ‘fenced
off’ in practice from its natural context – the Eucharist – as if the
two were somehow incompatible. In the pages that follow I shall
attempt to trace this strange phenomenon and offer possible rea-
sons for it.
As is well known, the earliest full description of marriage as a
rite at our disposal is the so-called Barberini codex 336 (Barberini
Gr. 336) of the late 8th century, which makes clear reference to the
couple’s reception of communion not as an option but as a neces-
sary part of the service. 4 Whether this reference signifies that this
8th c. service was in the context of a ‘true’ liturgy or the commun-
ion was taken from pre-sanctified gifts is irrelevant, for it points in
any case to the eucharistic context and origins of marriage as is also
the case for the service of baptism. 5 In order to trace the develop-
ment of this practice in earlier versions of the marriage service one
is compelled to depend on scriptural evidence and chance refer-
ences in the Fathers and ancient Church Orders. Although the
New Testament evidence is laconic regarding any specific marital
rite as is the case for other liturgical ‘services’ also – the eucharistic
context of marriage is clear in Christ’s presence at the marriage in
Cana 6 and in the reference to water and wine, 7 which have been
Eucharist (Gk txt.) (Thessaloniki: Pournaras, 2001). For a historical review

of the connection of marriage specifically with the eucharist see P.
Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy: A Look at the History of Worship (Gk.
txt). (Thessaloniki: Pournaras, 1998).
4 The rubric states: ‘giving them the life-giving communion.’ The
same rubric is to be found in the 8th/9th c. Sinai NF/ MG53 from Pales-
tine. See Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, p. 164f.
5 The tradition has invariably been to commune the neophyte (with
the reserved sacrament in today’s practice) and this points to the baptis-
mal liturgy’s original eucharistic context. For an excellent general review
on these origins and the meaning of baptism, see A. Schmemann, Of Wa-
ter and the Spirit: A Liturgical Study of Baptism (Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s
Seminary Press, 1974).
6 Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, p. 129.
MARRIAGE AND THE EUCHARIST 107
understood as Eucharistic symbols. 8 The reference in Ephesians

5:32 to marriage as a ‘great mystery’ (musterion mega) also points to
the sacramental nature of marriage, which in the Eastern Christian
perception sees every ‘mysterion’ as pointing to the one mys-
tery/sacrament of Christ. 9 In the writings of the 1st century Apos-
tolic Father Ignatius of Antioch, the necessity of the presence of
Christ in Christian marriage is stressed through the presence of the
icon of Christ, the bishop: ‘those who marry and are given in mar-
riage must be united through the opinion of the bishop so that the
marriage can be according to the Lord and not desire.’ 10 This view
is confirmed by the New Testament statement that Christians mar-
ry ‘in the Lord.’ 11 However, marrying ‘in the Lord’ or having the
‘opinion’ of the bishop is not to be seen as the mere permission of
an individual, as is the case in permission given by parents, nor as a
mere prayer or rite, but as the acknowledgement of the local as-
sembly = the Body of Christ = the Church, represented by the
bishop. 12
By the 4th c. an originally threadbare ‘marriage service,’ which
was tantamount to the mere participation in the Eucharist of the
couple in the presence of the bishop and the community, began to
develop gradually into a fully fledged marital liturgy. This fleshing
out process begins with the gradual appearance of blessing prayers
referring specifically to the couple, 13 and then certain marriage ‘cus-
7 John 2:1–11.
8 Milosevic, To Christ and the Church, p. 63.
9 Ibid, p. 61.
10 Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to Polycarp, 5:2, SC 10, p. 150.
11 1Cor 7:39.
12 For the concept of the bishop as icon of Christ who as president
of the Eucharistic assembly plays the part of a corporate personality unit-

ing the one and the many in the local Church see J. Zizioulas, Eucharist,
During the First Three Centuries (Brookline: Holy Cross Orthodox Press,
Bishop, Church: The Unity of the Church in the Divine Eucharist and the Bishop
2001).
13 Earlier patristic evidence seems to point already to nuptial blessing
prayers referring to the couple as in Tertullian (2nd – 3rd c.): ‘how shall we
ever be able to describe adequately the joy of that marriage which is pro-
108 PHILIP ZYMARIS
toms’ that we recognize today as belonging to a ‘rite’ of marriage. It

is during this era that staples of our modern marriage rite, the rings,
joining of hands and crowns, begin to be introduced, as is wit-
nessed in descriptions of St. Chrysostom and others. 14 About this
time artistic evidence for the formation of some kind of a marriage
rite also shows up in both the East West in the form of depictions
of the joining of hands of the couple or the laying on of hands up-
on the couple’s heads by a Christ/bishop figure. 15 The one element
that remained constant during this long period of gradual devel-
opment of a distinctively nuptial rite, however, was its celebration
in the context of a eucharistic service at least up to the 9th c. 16 The
MS evidence shows that even after this period, as the gradual sepa-
ration of the marriage service from its original Eucharistic context
eventually led to today’s non-eucharistic marriage rite, a liturgical
consciousness that the newly weds must receive communion to-
gether in the service or right after it was still preserved even as late
as the 18th century. 17
From the 9th to the 18th centuries the MS tradition witnesses
to the development of four different versions of the marriage ser-
vided for by the Church, the rite strengthens and is certified and sealed in
a blessing, at which angels are present as witnesses, and to which the fa-
ther gives His consent?’ (Ad Uxorem, II, VIII-6, SC 273, 148); see Skaltses,
Marriage and Divine Liturgy, p. 136. Similarly, Clement of Alexandria refers
to marriage ‘according to the performed word’ (λόγον τελειούμενος)
which also seems to refer to a blessing prayer, Stromateis, 4 PG 8,1337A.
14 For example, Chrysostom on the crowns as a symbol of victory,
PG 62:546; see also PG 62:64; cf. Milosevic, The Holy Eucharist, 196–197
and Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, pp. 141–147 for other references.
15 For some of these depictions and explanations of them see
Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, pp. 151–155.

16 As seen for example in references given by Theodore the Studite:
G. Fatouros, Theodori Studitae Epistulae. Pars prior: Prolegomena et textum epp.

1–70 continens (Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae XXX/1, Berlin 1992, pp.
149–150. Letter 50).
17 After this time, the introduction of printed liturgical books even-
tually led to the ‘freezing’ and standardization of today’s non-eucharistic

rite. See Milosevic, To Christ and the Church, p. 187.
vice which trace the gradual divorce from its original eucharistic
context. We find 1) the marriage rite in the context of the Divine
Liturgy 2) a special pre-sanctified liturgy marriage rite; 3) a service
offering a choice of either the pre-sanctified gifts or the ‘common
cup;’ and 4) a service like today’s which offers only the common
cup. 18
What led to this development? It seems that there were cer-
tain practical reasons that led to this as well as an underlying popu-
lar mentality that had been developing which gave philosophical
support for these liturgical changes. We will begin with the former,
more objective factors that could have led to these developments
and then attempt a preliminary venture into the possible thought
patterns behind them.
Let us first of all, then, begin with some historical facts. De-
spite our tendency to idealize Byzantium as an almost perfect
Christian society, not all of its citizens led a storybook synaxarion-
style life. The Byzantines themselves (who never called themselves
Byzantines nor Greeks but Romans), saw themselves as continuing
the venerable tradition of Roman Law. Regarding marriage, Roman
law in the early Christian era, allowed three choices for ‘legal’ mar-
riage: 1) a verbal agreement in the presence of witnesses; 2) a writ-
ten contract; and 3) Church marriage. 19 Evidently those who chose
the third option were those who were interested in living nuptially
according to the Church’s conception of marriage as a ‘great mys-
tery.’
It is ironic that the gradual abandonment of all these choices
in favor of ecclesial marriage for all citizens is one of the main fac-
tors that finally sealed the permanent separation of marriage from
the eucharist. This occurred in three basic stages: 1) in 537 Emper-
or Justinian ordered that all government figures be married in the
Church; 2) in 893 Emperor Leo the Wise legislated that Church
marriage was mandatory for all free citizens (there still were slaves
in Byzantium); and, finally; 3) in the 11th c., Emperor Alexios
Comnenos determined that the only valid marriage is ecclesiastical
18For the MS evidence see Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, pp.
163–327; Milosevic, To Christ and the Church, pp. 67–86.
19 Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, pp. 55–56.
110 PHILIP ZYMARIS
marriage for all. 20 Thus the Church took over the role of the state
to become the only legal ‘marrier.’ This meant that all people, even
those who in earlier times would freely have chosen not to be mar-
ried in the Church, were now compelled to do so. This led to two
results that contributed to the separation of marriage and liturgy: 1)
the increase in the number of people that had to be accommodated
led to an overflow of marriages outside the Sunday liturgy, which
contributed to the gradual privatization of the service; and 2) the
marriage service had to be adapted to accommodate all types of
people which led to a general ‘watering down’ of the service. This
is reflected in the aforementioned marriage service which offered a
choice between pre-sanctified gifts for the ‘worthy,’ 21 or the ‘com-
mon cup’ as a sort of ἀντίδωρον, i.e. substitute communion, for
cases when the couple was ‘unworthy’ for communion.
What did this ‘unworthiness’ entail? First of all, there were
those who were married for a second and even a third time. Such
people were subject to a penance barring them from communion
for as much as 2 years for a second marriage and 5 years for a third.
In keeping with this prescription, the second marriage rite had a
penitential character: there was neither crowning nor communion
in this service. 22
A similar prohibition of communion to the couple was also
the case for mixed marriages. In Byzantium there was an increase
in mixed marriages from the 10th c. on. Such marriages were con-
tracted with either non-Chalcedonian Christians or, after the 13th c.
crusades, with Latin Christians. 23 Regarding possible philosophical
bases behind this gradual separation of marriage from its natural
20 For these developments see Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy,

pp. 156–161; Milosevic, The Holy Eucharist, p. 199.
21 ‘If they are worthy to receive’. (National Library of Greece 662 –
12 – 14th c.). See Milosevic, The Holy Eucharist, p. 193.

th
22 While this service presently still retains a somewhat penitential fla-
vor, the practice of crowning the couple has philanthropically been intro-
duced by the Ecumenical Patriarchate.
23 Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, pp. 303–305; Milosevic, The
Holy Eucharist, p. 196f.

Eucharistic context, the following preliminary thoughts may be

ventured.
The very nature of Christianity, claiming to be the final revela-
tion of the truth, necessitated a radical newness and a prominently
eschatological perspective. During N.T. times, while living with the
imminent expectation of the end times, Christians still continued
living in the state they found themselves, whether married or sin-
gle. 24 Indeed, it is notable that even in this context of eschatological
expectation St. Paul nevertheless dealt with nuptial issues and was
even able to make certain positive statements regarding the sancti-
fying power of marriage that were revolutionary for the ancient
world. 25 During the period of persecution that followed, the
Church’s eschatological orientation and witness was easy to main-
tain due to the circumstances and marriage was not an issue that
needed to be dealt with in this context. When the persecutions
ceased, however, it seems that the Church attempted to preserve
this radical eschatological witness to the world in new ways. Thus,
once the martyrdom of blood became infrequent, the new martyr-
dom/witness of celibate asceticism made its appearance even be-
fore the formal development of organized monasticism in the 4th
century. 26 Perhaps the popular conception of the early Church was
that there was a need for her to distinguish herself from the good
but ‘normal’ and therefore un-heroic monogamy inherited from the
Jews, on the one hand, 27 and from the rampant promiscuity of the
24 See 1Cor. 7:8–10.

25 See 1Cor. 7:12f. where the unbeliever is sanctified by the believer
in marriage and 7:3–4 where the equality of the sexes over each others
bodies in marriage is affirmed.
26 See Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Re-
nunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press,

1988) for numerous instances of this.
27 Brown, The Body and Society, pp. 44, 60–61. The infant and adoles-
cent Church’s policy to seek ways to distinguish herself from her mother
Judaism is manifestly evident in this era. For example, some form of fast-
ing was a universal given in the religious world of the East and the Jews
fasted twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays (cf. the parable of the
Publican and the Pharisee, Luke 18:12). This custom was continued by the
112 PHILIP ZYMARIS
Roman Empire, on the other. 28 The celibate life had the potential
to be a radical statement in such a milieu. This was facilitated by
the aforementioned Christian penchant to distance herself from her
Jewish roots (with its more ‘body friendly’ biblical basis), 29 which
prepared the way for an easy adoption of Stoic and Neo-Platonic
anthropological models that were part of the common intellectual
air of the Hellenistic world within which Christianity spread. One
can cite an early Church Father such as Clement of Alexandria,
who in one place even seems to praise the goodness of marriage
over the celibate life, 30 but who in other places interprets it under
Church but changed to Wednesdays and Fridays as a distinguishing point

as cited in the Didache, chap. 8. Only later was the symbolism of these days
representing the betrayal and crucifixion of Christ respectively stressed as
a justification. See Christos M. Enisleidos, The Institution of Fasting (Gk. txt),
(Athens: Enoria Publishing, 1958), pp. 136–137.
28 W. Rordorf, ‘Marriage in the New Testament and in the Early
Church,’ Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 20 (1969): p. 208. Evidence suggests

that, at least in certain circles, it was not as rampant as once assumed,
especially due to Stoic and Neo-Platonic mores, see Brown, The Body and
Society, p. 208.
29 The fact that Judaism had certain purity-impurity restrictions re-
garding the body does not reflect a negative anthropology regarding the
body as is seen in Neo-Platonic and other Hellenistic philosophical sys-
tems. These notions of ritual purity/impurity were a common element of
all religions in the ancient world. The ‘body-friendly’ aspect of Judaism
mentioned above refers to the biblical view that the human being is a psy-
chosomatic reality, body and soul as a whole (hence the teaching of the
Resurrection), rather than the Hellenistic view that the two are separate
and therefore death is a liberation freeing the soul from the prison of the
body. It is possible that the more Hellenized Jews of the diaspora in Alex-
andria and elsewhere could interpret this biblical anthropology in more
Hellenistic terms.
30 ‘For having become perfect, he has the apostles for examples; and
one is not really shown to be a man in the choice of single life; but he
surpasses men, who, disciplined by marriage, procreation of children, and
care for the house, without pleasure or pain, in his solicitude for the house
has been inseparable from God’s love, and withstood all temptation aris-
Stoic categories as a utilitarian arrangement solely allowed for the

begetting of children. 31 The Neo-Platonic tendency of Origen, who
was Clement’s successor to the leadership of the Alexandrian Cate-
chetical School, is also common knowledge. The irony here is that
while Origen was one of the greatest exegetes of scripture his views
regarding the body and sexuality were strangely unbiblical. 32 As far
as Latin Christianity is concerned, the greatest Western doctor Au-
gustine spent time as a Manichee and his final conversion to Chris-
tianity was facilitated by his readings of the Neo-Platonic Porphyry
and Plotinus. 33 His own personal experiences 34 coupled with this
philosophical background combined to produce a negative view on
sexuality which was passed onto popular culture 35 despite the
Church’s official affirmation of the basic goodness of marriage, the
human body and sexuality. 36
ing through children, and wife, and domestics, and possessions.’ Clement,
Stromateis, 7.70.
31 Ibid, 3.7.58. See also Brown, Ibid, p. 128f.
32 See Brown, Ibid, pp. 160–177.
33 For his own autobiography relating all these stages in detail, see
Augustine, Confessions, PL 32:659–868.

34 See Ibid.
35 Brown makes the point that Augustine was merely continuing the
tradition laid down by Jerome, Ambrose and Gregory of Nyssa, ibid, p.

402. See also Eric Fuchs, Sexual Desire and Love, (New York: Seabury
Press, 1983), p. 117: ‘Augustine, although he was more sensitive than oth-
ers to the social dimension of the couple, was unable to conceive of the
possibility that sexuality could hold tenderness, friendship, spirituality, and
this lack of insight was very influential on the later tradition.’ See also P.
Sherrard, ‘The Sexual Relationship in Christian Thought,’ Studies in Com-
parative Religion, 5/3 (1971): pp. 151–172, esp. p. 169: ‘the failure to place
[marriage] within the full sacramental context of a personal relationship
engaging the whole beings of the man and woman concerned has meant
that it has been impossible to regard it in a manner that does not lead
either to its idealization or to its abuse, or to both at once.’
36 Cf. the canons of the Council of Gangra promulgated to affirm
the holiness of marriage over against the teachings of the Encratites and
other Gnostic, dualist tendencies (The Rudder, pp. 523f.), as well as the
114 PHILIP ZYMARIS
The practical historical factors referred to above coupled with

these prevalent attitudes regarding sexuality ultimately led to the
conclusive separation of marriage from its eucharistic context in
both East and West. 37 As far as the East is concerned, the final
blow to this original unity of marriage/eucharist was struck during
the period of Ottoman rule. During this era of general decline, cri-
sis and demoralization of the subject peoples, it was difficult to
maintain ‘official’ Orthodox traditional criteria over against the new
social and spiritual situation – especially when certain aspects of
official teaching were influenced by the aforementioned philosoph-
ical background. On the one hand, those few who were educated
were educated in the West and introduced enlightenment notions
or Western religious ideals to the East, 38 and, on the other hand,
those who were not educated had a tendency to fall back to native
pagan superstitions. Because of this, original Orthodox writings
and teachings were rare during this era. 39 In such an environment,
Eastern Orthodox affirmation of married clergy.

37 After Vatican II this has changed in the Roman Catholic Church.
38 P. Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, p. 309.
39 Indeed, Western works were often translated and edited by Or-
thodox authors such as Nikodemos the Athonite and widely circulated as

is the case with the classic book by L. Scupoli Unseen Warfare, (which
spread even to Slavic Orthodoxy) to cite a prominent example (Unseen
Warfare, Being the Spiritual Combat and Path to Paradise of Lorenzo Scupoli as
Translated from Theophan’s Russian Text by E. Kadloubovsky and G. E.

edited by Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain and revived by Theophan the Recluse,
H. Palmer, with introduction by H. A. Hodges, London, 1963). A possible

exception to this broad generalization could be some of the leaders of the
so-called Kollybades movement of the 19th c. and Nikodemos the Athon-
ite himself. He was educated in the East and became a prolific writer who
penned many original works in his attempt to bring the Orthodox back to
traditions that had been forgotten during the years of slavery under the
Ottomans. He is especially known, however, for his compilations of earli-
er works, which have now become standard Orthodox literature, such as
the Philokalia, a collection of neptic writings from the 4th – 15th c., and the
Rudder, a compilation of the canons of the Church and commentaries on
them, which is considered authoritative to this day. For more on the Kol-
Western Augustinian notions of sexuality could easily be intro-

duced along with pagan anthropologies and Neo-Platonic notions
that were comfortably accepted by monks that increasingly were in
positions of authority in the Church during this era. 40 These factors
led to an atrophy of the Eucharistic consciousness of the people
and a general liturgical tendency to privatize (i.e. ‘de-eucharicize’)
the sacraments. 41
This background allowed for an ever increasing amount of
impediments barring lay people in general and married people in
particular from the eucharist. 42 For example, it is observed that a
rule originally meant for those who contracted a third marriage
(taken from the 10th c. so-called ‘Tome of Union’ promulgated by
Patriarch Nicholas Mystikos), 43 which allowed communion only
three times a year for the rest of one’s life after a penance of com-
plete Eucharistic abstention for four years, was somehow general-
lybades and Nikodemos the Athonite, see Nikodemos Skretta, The Eucha-
(Gk. txt.), (Thessaloniki: Pournaras, 2004).

rist and the Privileged Position of Sunday According to the Teaching of the Kollybades
40 The issue of the shifting of monasticism’s center of gravity from
an original desert, non-clerical style, to a more urban, clerical style (leading

to the gradual adoption of positions of leadership in the Church by mo-
nastics – something originally seen as incompatible with monasticism) was
a long complex process that cannot be dealt with here. Let it suffice to say
that this tendency was more evident after the 7th Ecumenical Council in
the 8th century and the defeat of iconoclasm in the 9th. See Milosevic, The
Holy Eucharist, p. 199 and P. Zymaris, ‘Tonsure and Cursus Honorum up to
the Photian Era and Contemporary Ramifications,’ Greek Orthodox Theolog-
ical Review, 56:1–4 (2011): pp. 321–348.
41 Milosevic, The Holy Eucharist, p. 198.
42 Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, p. 312f; Milosevic, The Holy
Eucharist, pp. 198–200.

43 This legislation was originally written with the situation of Leo VI
(‘the Wise’) – who actually married a fourth time also – in mind. See Mey-
endorff, Marriage: An Orthodox Perspective, (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s
Seminary Press, 2000), pp. 51–52; for the full text of the ‘Tome of Union’
see L. G. Westerink, Nicholas I Patriarch of Constantinople, Miscellaneous Writ-
ings (Washington DC: Dumbarton Oaks Texts 6, 1981), pp. 58–69.
116 PHILIP ZYMARIS
ized as binding for all Christians (!) – indeed, for the churchgoing
Christians who adhered faithfully to the full liturgical rhythm of the
Church and kept all the fasts! 44
Another major factor that added yet more impediments pre-
cluding the marriage-eucharist connection was a tendency to revisit
Old Testament prescriptions on ritual impurity as well as pagan
notions on sexuality. These O.T. prescriptions originated in a very
particular context that was fulfilled and therefore transformed in
Christ according to the Christian interpretation. This stance, how-
ever, was not always assimilated uniformly everywhere and wherev-
er the older view survived along with the aforementioned Christian
stance confusion and strife was caused as is reflected very early on
in St. Paul’s temporary dispute with St. Peter regarding Judaizing
tendencies. 45 Indeed, the temptation to take Old Testament Leviti-
cal prescriptions as a standard for Christian life never disap-
44 Milosevic, The Holy Eucharist, p. 200. Those who were ‘less faithful’
would receive even less! Needless to say, this teaching goes against the
sacramental theology of the Church and the very nature of the eucharist
as that which constitutes the Church. This is reflected in the official ca-
nonical tradition of the Church that excommunicates those who abstain
from the eucharist! See the 2nd Canon of the Council of Antioch: ‘As for
all those persons who enter the church and listen to the sacred Scriptures,
but who fail to commune in prayer together and at the same time with the
laity, or who shun the participation of the Eucharist, in accordance with some
irregularity, we decree that these persons be outcasts from the Church…’
(The Rudder, D. Cummings, ed., [Chicago: The Orthodox Christian Educa-
tional Society, 1983], p. 535), yet this is exactly what was imposed by this
pseudo-canonical tradition of the Ottoman period! Similarly, see also
Canon 80 of the Quinisext Council excommunicates those who do not
show up at the Sunday liturgy for three consecutive Sundays in a row. Ibid,
p. 384.
45 For indications of the dispute see Gal. 2:11–14; Acts 10:9f; 11:1–3;
15:7–11; 15:19–20; Colossians 2:16–19: ‘Let no man therefore judge you

in meat, or in drink, or in respect of holidays or of the new moon or of
the Sabbath days, which are a shadow of things to come…’
peared. 46 despite the official Church’s efforts to the contrary. 47 This

is especially evident during the 400 years of Ottoman occupation in
46 It is interesting to note that this propensity to return to Levitical

prescriptions is usually selective. Few are in favor of returning to circum-
cision for men but to this day women are taught in some Orthodox circles
to abstain from the Eucharist when menstruating. On this issue see Vassa
Larin, ‘What is Ritual Im/purity and Why,’ SVTQ 52: 3–4 (2008): pp.
275–292. It is strange that while Christ as the God-Man came as a fulfill-
ment of all religion and therefore changed our relationship with the Old
Testament law and blessed the body through the Incarnation and Resur-
rection, this propensity to go back to O.T. laws, (that were a guardian
until the coming of Christ, according to St. Paul in Gal. 3:24), as if Christ
never came, keeps on reappearing throughout Church history. Perhaps
such rules and regulations give a sense of security, whereas genuine Chris-
tianity confronts one with the awesome responsibility of true freedom and
the profound task of a real relationship with God and love of neighbor
which entails self crucifying love.
47 For example, see St. Chrysostom’s 10th Homily on Timothy: ‘I
omit other things that might make us weep; your auguries, your omens,
your superstitious observances, your casting of nativities, your signs, your
amulets, your divinations, your incantations, your magic arts…’ The Nicene
and Post-Nicene Fathers, vol. XIII, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eeerdmans
Publishing Co., 1969), p. 440 and Ibid, Commentary on Colossians 2:16–
19, p. 288f. See also Homily III, Titus 1:12–14: ‘unto the pure, all things
are pure’ (Titus 1:15) ‘Things then are not clean or unclean from their
own nature, but from the disposition of him who partakes of them … All
things are pure. God made nothing unclean, for nothing is unclean , ex-
cept sin only. For that reaches to the soul, and defiles it. Other unclean-
ness is human prejudice … scrupulous observances are no mark of purity,
but it is the part of purity to be bold in all things … moral. What is un-
clean? Sin, malice, covetousness, wickedness … You see how many forms
of uncleanliness there are. The woman in childbed is unclean. Yet God
made childbirth and the seed of copulation. Why then is the woman un-
clean, unless something further is intimated? He [Moses] intended to pro-
duce piety in the soul, … But these things now are not required of us. But
all is transferred to the soul.’ Ibid, pp. 529–531. For these and other texts
in this vein see Kyriaki Karidoyanes Fitzgerald, Women Deacons in the Ortho-
dox Church: Called to Holiness and Ministry (Brookline: Holy Cross Orthodox
118 PHILIP ZYMARIS
the East. This era saw the development of a ‘pseudo-canonical’

tradition that re-introduced such Old Testament purity/impurity
standards along with many local pagan superstitions that had sur-
vived. 48 In these collections natural biological manifestations (espe-
cially bodily emissions) related to sexuality and gender (sexual rela-
tions, 49 menstrual cycle, etc.) were seen as rendering someone ‘un-
clean’ and therefore unfit for public worship. Translated to the
Christian context this meant exclusion from the eucharist. 50
Press, 1998), pp. 66–75. For the issue of purity/impurity prescriptions

that have made their way into liturgical texts see, A. Calivas, Essays in The-
ology and Liturgy, vol. III: Aspects of Orthodox Worship, (Brookline: Holy
Cross Orthodox Press, 2003), p. 143f.
48 These collections, written in vernacular Greek (because people by
then generally could not understand the original language of the canons)
were a compilation of translated, paraphrased or truncated canons, cus-
toms and superstitions. Oftentimes the so-called Κανονάρια (‘Rule-
books’) or Ἐξομολογητάρια (‘Confessionals’) were appended to these
collections as a guide for spiritual fathers. These often took the form of a
list of sins and their corresponding penances. The tendency in these com-
pilations was to impose monastic categories on married life (see Milosevic,
The Holy Eucharist, p. 199) or even certain pagan superstitions on Chris-
tians in general (see Theodore Giagkou, Canons and Worship, (Gk. txt.),
[Thessaloniki: Mydonia Publications, 2006], pp. 163–196; 289–362).
49 One must note that the sexual relations referred to here are within
the sacrament of marriage.

50 As mentioned above, a proper interpretation of the place of O.T.
purity/impurity prescriptions and the conflict between a Christian an-

thropology on the one hand and older more negative anthropologies on
the other, has troubled the Church from the beginning (see note 45). In-
terestingly enough, the more positive Christian view seems to be stressed
more specifically in certain Semitic Christian sources such as St. Chrysos-
tom (see note 47) and the Syriac Didaskalia, while the more negative an-
thropology (especially regarding biological and sexual manifestations) is
expressed in Alexandrian sources. It seems that Vassa Larin in her article
‘What is Ritual Im/purity and Why,’ SVTQ 52: 3–4 (2008): pp. 275–292
has offered the most reasonable explanation for this phenomenon.
Whereas in Syria and Palestine the original Christians were themselves
Jews that desired to distinguish themselves from Judaism in a predomi-
nantly Jewish environment, the Jews of Alexandria were Hellenized dias-

pora Jews and therefore there was less of a need for Christians to distin-
guish themselves from them. In this more Hellenistic, Alexandrian milieu,
then, O.T. prescriptions as well as pagan anthropological notions could
more easily seep unconsciously into ‘official’ Christian teachings. In the
end, the Alexandrian view, more comfortably ‘religious,’ made it into the
‘official’ books of the Church and thus spread beyond Alexandria. This is
seen in the incorporation in the Rudder of the 3rd and 4th century ‘canons’
of the Alexandrians Dionysios and Timothy respectively, which continue
O.T. purity/impurity traditions. For example, Canon 2 of Dionysios states
that a woman cannot enter the sanctuary when menstruating and canon 4
of Timothy states that a woman cannot receive communion during this
time of the month. The 13th ‘canon’ of Timothy (these are actually a series
of questions to St. Timothy rather than an actual synod promulgating
conciliar canonical decisions) mandates that married Christians abstain
from sexual relations on Saturday and Sunday so as to not pollute these
holy days. This clearly conflicts with venerable liturgical texts of the
Church such as the Syriac Didaskalia (see relevant text below in this note)
and St. Chrysostom (see above, notes 45 & 47). Yet, one could protest
that these specific writings of these Alexandrian Fathers are valid canons
of the Church and are incorporated in the Rudder. Indeed, this is true but
one must mention here that before the compilation of the Rudder in the
19th century the Church made do with other collections, some better,
some worse, and not all of them had these specific canons (see Theodore
Giagkou, ‘The Rudder in Relation to Earlier Nomocanonical Collections,’
in Canons and Worship, [Thessaloniki: Mydonia Publications, 2006], pp.
163–196). Even if one were to take the Rudder the way it has been handed
down to us today, it is clear that these canons are not from an ecumenical
council or even a local council, rather, they are teachings or ‘rules’ prom-
ulgated by individuals. Is everything that finds its way into the Rudder of
equal value regardless of its origins? Even though these authors are con-
sidered to be saints this does not imply their automatic infallibility in a
conciliar Church. One of course could argue further that the Quinisext
Ecumenical Council later validated these canons as having ‘ecumenical
validity.’ Indeed, this is true, but one needs to be cautious of such sweep-
ing generalizations. Included in this amorphous pile of variegated canons
from Ecumenical Councils, local synods and individual Fathers is the can-
on prohibiting the ordination of presbyters before the age of 30 and an-
120 PHILIP ZYMARIS
Due to the general spirit of the rules compiled in this unoffi-

cial pseudo-canonical literature, one observes the adoption in
popular piety of austere directives regarding abstention from sexual
activity before contact with the holy as a preparation for the Eu-
charist, i.e. the popular notion that the two do not go together.
Something like this already existed in the earlier official canonical
tradition as seen in 13th Canon of the Quinisext Council (7th c.). 51
other canon that states that anyone who goes to a Jewish doctor is ex-
communicated. The first canon, which seems logical, has always been
systematically ignored by our bishops and the second suggests that all
inhabitants of New York are automatically ‘excommunicated!’ Because of
its importance for the sake of this discussion I quote a portion of the Syri-
ac Didaskalia that is pertinent to our argument here (note that the Syriac
Didaskalia was incorporated into the first 6 chapters of the Apostolic
Constitutions): ‘Now if any persons keep to the Jewish customs and ob-
servances concerning the natural emission and nocturnal pollutions, and
the lawful conjugal acts, (referring to Leviticus XV), let them tell us
whether in those hours or days, when they undergo any such thing, they
observe not to pray, or to touch a Bible, or to partake of the Eucharist?
And if they own it to be so, it is plain they are void of the Holy Spirit,
which always continues with the faithful … For if you think, O woman,
when you are seven days in your separation, that you are void of the Holy
Spirit, then if you should die suddenly you will depart void of the Spirit,
and without assured hope in God; or else you must imagine that
the Spirit always is inseparable from you, as not being in a place. But you
stand in need of prayer and the Eucharist, and the coming of the Holy
Ghost, as having been guilty of no fault in this matter. For neither lawful
mixture, nor child-bearing, nor the menstrual purgation, nor nocturnal
pollution, can defile the nature of a man, or separate the Holy Spirit from
him. Nothing but impiety and unlawful practice can do that.’ Then refer-
ence is made to the account in Mark 5:25–34 of the woman with the issue
of blood: ‘She who had the flow of blood was not condemned when she
touched the fringe of our Savior’s cloak but, rather, received the for-
giveness of all her sins. Therefore, beloved ones, avoid such foolish ob-
servances, and do not come near them. See Apostolic Constitutions, Book
6:27 (= Syriac Didaskalia 26:4:21).
51 See the Rudder, D. Cummings, ed. (Chicago: The Orthodox Chris-
tian Educational Society, 1983), p. 305–306

This canon and other canons often cited 52 as supporting a period

of abstention from sexual relations before communion, do not
spell out a specific amount of time for this abstention. However,
most faithful have traditionally interpreted this as referring to ab-
stention only on the night before communion. Indeed, this seems
to be a common practice and can philanthropically understood as
not necessarily reflecting a negative anthropology or an adherence
to ritual purity/impurity mores, but rather as an opportunity for
prayer in the sense of 1Corinthians 7:5 53 or for rest before the
work of the liturgy, even though similar prescriptions are to be
found in pre-Christian times. 54 However, once this prescription
increased in time and severity during the Turkish period, the simple
guideline of ‘one night before’ communion expanded to as much as
one week before; and soon abstention was mandated for the day of
communion and, finally, even for as many as three days afterwards
also! 55 This was besides the usual Wednesday/Friday fasts and ma-
52 Canons 3 and 4 of Carthage (Ibid, pp. 606–607).

53 ‘Do not deprive one another except with consent for a time, that
you may give yourselves to fasting and prayer; and come together again so
that Satan does not tempt you…’ Interestingly enough, even Dionysios of
Alexandria (3rd c.) is in agreement with this as he states in his 3rd canon
that this is ‘up to the couple’ (Rudder, p. 720).
54 Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, p. 314, note 719 and R. Taft,
‘Women at Church in Byzantium: Where, When – and Why?’ Dumbarton

Oaks Papers 52 (1998): p. 76. The Old Testament justification for a period
of abstention often cited by such collections include Exod. 19:10–11; 15;
(Moses and the people’s abstention for three days as a preparation for the
descent of Yahweh from Sinai) and 1 Kings 21:5–7 (David and his men
who could eat of the holy bread because they abstained from women).
55 See Milosevic, The Holy Eucharist, pp. 200–201 and Skaltses, Mar-
riage and Divine Liturgy, pp. 313–318 with copious notes and citations. In-
terestingly enough, Symeon of Thessaloniki (15th c.) in PG 155:865C justi-
fied abstention after communion because ‘God and flesh cannot com-
mune,’ which seems to go directly against the fundamental teaching of the
Incarnation!
122 PHILIP ZYMARIS
jor fasting periods of the Church. 56 So, to these fast days (tradition-
ally non-eucharistic) the festal days of Saturdays and Sundays 57
were also added as well as all other eucharistic feast days through-
out the year and the paschal period of bright week which tradition-
ally had a liturgy everyday. 58 Since according to such views both
56 Traditionally fasting and sexual abstention have been understood

as going together in the sense of a temporary abstention from good things
given by God in order to remember that ‘man shall not live by bread
alone.’ However, a strict coupling of fasting with sexual abstention with
no exceptions can be problematic. Regarding this issue, even a Father as
conservative in sexual/biological matters as Dionysios of Alexandria (see
note 50), in his 3rd Canon pastorally gives precedence to the personal situ-
ation of the couple in the spirit of 1Cor 7:5 by stating that this ‘is up to
the couple’ (Rudder, p. 720) rather than adhering to impersonal objectified
rules (see note 53 above). In this pastoral sense the personal situation of
each couple is unique and unrepeatable; not all couples are at the same
level, and sexual relations logically should not be brought down universal-
ly to the level of food – the goal is hopefully that there is some inkling of
love in this physical contact that would put it on a totally different plane
than replenishing calories.
57 See Timothy of Alexandria, Canon 13, The Rudder, p. 879. Due to
this teaching, which made its way into the Rudder and various earlier ca-
nonical collections, the message given, as stated above, is that sexuality
even in the confines of the sacrament of marriage is not holy and there-
fore incompatible with the Eucharist. This notion led to the prohibition
of sexual relations for newlyweds on the eve of their wedding if they mar-
ried in the traditional way with participation in the Eucharist. Thus the
12th c. Patriarch Loukas Chryssoverges imposed penances upon couples
who had intercourse on the eve of their marriage! This is found in the
commentary by the 12th c. canonist Balsamon on the 4th canon of the
Council of Carthage, Ralle-Potl, Σύνταγμα, vol. III, p. 304. See also
Skaltses, Marriage and Divine Liturgy, pp. 315–316.
58 The prescription of the Ottoman period barring Christians from
communion during Bright Week – clearly a period devoid of fasting – if

couples engage in sexual activity is contrary to the 66th Canon of the Qui-
nisext Council that encourages the faithful to celebrate in joy and go to
Church and commune everyday (‘taking cheer in Christ and celebrating …
and delighting themselves to their heart’s content in the Holy Myster-
fasting and feasting periods are considered as inappropriate for

sexual communion within the sacrament of marriage, what is left
for this aspect of life in a healthy theology of marriage? Leaving
aside the fasting periods, such an extreme fencing off of sexuality
from the Eucharist can only be attributed to an adoption of pagan
conceptions and O.T. prescriptions totally unaffected by the advent
of Christ. The strange message given by such prescriptions is that
these festal periods are times of joy and communion for all aspects of
life except the nuptial, and therefore marital sexuality and the Eu-
charist are understood as simply irreconcilable.
Taking into account all of the above restrictions, the faithful
were (and still are) confronted with a dilemma: either participate in
the feasting (Eucharist) and fasting rhythm of the Church, which
essentially meant an end to all legitimate sexual relations within
marriage, or be faithful to that aspect of nuptial life and never par-
ticipate in the eucharist. The latter solution has all too often been
the rule even to this day in traditional Orthodox countries where
people who are otherwise ‘religious’ church goers receive very rare-
ly mainly because they are married and engage in what married
people engage in. Therefore, according to this teaching, the Eucha-
rist is a part of extraordinary life and ‘normal’ Christian life – espe-
cially normal married life – is un-sanctifiable. What a far cry from
the original notion that the Eucharist is what actually constitutes us
as Church and that this should be the true source of our new life in
Christ, i.e. our real, everyday life, every aspect of which must be
incorporated into this mystery and thus sanctified. Otherwise we
are living a crypto-dualism and schizophrenic situation where
Church life is opposed to real life which is by definition unsanctifi-
able!
Leaving aside the confusion this causes to people, this mes-
sage is theologically problematic and even dangerous. For if the
sexual part of the human being in marriage has to be fenced off
from the Eucharist – the mystery of Christ – then this aspect of
human life can never be saved. Yet, we are assured that marriage –
not as an abstract notion but as a form of life – is a sacrament. In-
ies…’). See The Rudder, p. 365. Cf. the 2nd Canon of the Council of Anti-
och for similar teachings (see note 44 above).
124 PHILIP ZYMARIS
deed, theology, biology and psychology all point to the fact that
sexuality is an inseparable part of the human hypostasis as a psy-
chosomatic reality not only from the embryonic stage but also the-
ologically from the very creation of Man in the book of Genesis.
These mixed messages and inconsistencies reflect that lack of a
clear, coherent statement regarding this central aspect of human
life 59 on the part of the Church and impose a strange schizophrenia
on religious people regarding this neuralgic aspect of life. Philip
Sherrard hit it on the nose when he wrote regarding the Augustini-
an tradition on sexuality that has affected both East and West that
‘It is hardly surprising that the modern heirs of this community
would suffer from an in-built schizophrenia in all that concerns this
most intimate and personal aspect of their lives.’ 60 Because no real
positive theology of marriage and sexuality has been articulated in
both East and West, people either accept this ambiguous or even
negative view of sexuality and attempt to extirpate this aspect from
life as shameful and harmful, or simply reject this teaching and all
Church teachings by extension as out of date and ludicrous. These
two solutions all too often translate in real life, on the one hand, to
a puritanical (oftentimes hypocritical) suppression or rejection of
sexuality, or, on the other hand, to a libertine ‘anything goes atti-
tude’ which throws away the baby with the bath water by promot-
ing free sex and rejecting legitimate sacramental marriage as totally
meaningless.
It is therefore high time that we rediscover the traditional pos-
itive teachings on marriage and sexuality which incorporate this
aspect of life in the context of the holy of holies and unambiguous-
ly reject confusing and schizophrenic notions adopted from dubi-
ous sources, but which have recently been baptized very uncritically
as ‘venerable tradition.’ If this is not done now, it will soon be too
late for future generations who, in their search for spirituality with-
59 R. Taft makes the very salient point that ‘Since the beginning of
history, religion, sex and gender have been entwined in an unrelenting
embrace.’ ‘Women at Church in Byzantium: Where, When – and Why?’
Dumbarton Oaks Papers 52 (1998): p. 27.
60 P. Sherrard, ‘The Sexual Relationship in Christian Thought,’ Stud-
ies in Comparative Religion, 5/3 (1971): p. 157.

out such confusing and ambiguous messages about human nature,

are already leaving the Church in unprecedented numbers.
IMAGING THE TRUE FAMILY IN ST.
GREGORY NAZIANZEN’S ORATION 14
KATE MCCRAY
As Klaus Klostermaier describes his experiences of India in the late
1960s, he identifies two ways of doing theology – what he calls 70
degree theology, done in a temperate environment and interacting
with a temperate God, and 120 degree theology, done in extreme
and often inhospitable conditions and interacting with a God who
knows suffering. Klostermaier reflects after watching a goat die of
heatstroke that nature itself seemed to challenge life in a heat so
extreme:
The theologian at 70˚ F and with a well-ordered life sees the
whole world as a beautiful harmony with a grand purpose, the
church as God’s kingdom on earth and himself as the promot-
er of the real culture of humanity. The theologian at 120˚ F
sees the cracks in the soil and the world as a desert; he consid-
ers whether it wouldn’t be wiser to keep the last jug of water
till the evening; he wishes the heat was a few degrees less and
he has to exert all his Christian faith trying to find a little bit of
sense in this life wherein he plays such a very insignificant role,
because he depends on so many people. 1
Certainly St. Gregory the Theologian has a 120-degree environ-
ment in mind as he addresses the problem of leprosy in his four-
teenth oration, On Love for the Poor. Identifying a strict division be-
1 Klaus Klostermaier, In the Paradise of Krishna: Hindu and Christian

Seekers (The Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1971), 40–41.
127
128 KATE MCCRAY
tween the social interactions of the healthy and the sick, Gregory
paints vignettes of the other side for wealthy patrons as he invites
them to bankroll St. Basil’s hospital complexes for the sick and
dying. As the lepers struggled for food and water, city life could
exist as if untouched by reminders of mortality, reminders which
the Theologian intends to describe in as much verbal and visceral
detail as possible. The patrons and landowners lived in metaphori-
cal 70 degree environments, lulled into thinking their bodies were
not susceptible to decay, while in stark contrast the lepers lived in
120 degree environments, their own bodies seemingly pitted
against them, withering and cracking like the Indian soil in the
summer heat. Describing the human struggle, Gregory laments this
fickle body – ‘How I came to be joined to it, I do not know; nor
how I am the image of God and concocted of clay at the same
time, this body that both wars against me when it is healthy and
when warred against, brings me pain, that I both cherish as my fel-
low-servant and evade as my enemy; that I both try to escape as my
chain and respect as my fellow heir.’ 2 What the Theologian pre-
sents to potential donors is not comfortable theology, armchair
advice, or casual dialogue with a temperate God. On the contrary it
is within a world of sweltering heat and disease that Gregory cen-
ters his oration and its corresponding discussion of the true family.
Certainly an oration discussing leprosy and concern for the
poor is a curious place to find an examination of family. Gregory
of Nazianzus begins his Oration 14 by addressing his brethren, an
expected opening in keeping with Pauline letters and Christian
homilies. ‘Brethren and fellow paupers,’ Gregory declares to those
listening, ‘we are all poor and needy where divine grace is con-
cerned.’ 3 At first blush, Gregory’s use of ‘brothers’ seems to indi-
cate a brotherhood of common humanity by which we connect
with one another’s plight. On a base level he calls for these patrons
to view the leper as a human, asking them to challenge the dehu-
manizing impact of leprosy’s disfigurement. After all, we are all one
2 Gregory of Nazianzus, ‘Oration 14. On Love For The Poor,’ in Fa-

thers of the Church, translated by Martha Vison (Washington, D.C.: The
Catholic University of America Press, 2003), 14.6.
3 Orat. 14.1.
FAMILY IN ST. GREGORY NAZIANZEN’S ORATION 14 129
in the Lord, Gregory reminds, calling attention to the Body of

Christ not as the metaphor for the Church exclusively but for en-
tire human community – ‘There is one head of all, Christ, who is
the source of all things; and the same relationship that exists be-
tween the members of the body exists between ourselves, both as
individuals and collectively.’ 4
But as Gregory seeks the core image of the true family, he
proves that the worldwide, common human image of family cannot
be valued as that essential imago, as evidenced by our lack of re-
sponsibility for the person in need. The leper provides the perfect
example of this – Gregory says, ‘We are all flesh and encompassed
in a lowly body, and we are so derelict in our obligation to look
after our fellow man that we actually believe that avoiding these
people assures the well-being of our own persons … hardly abiding
the thought that in fact we breath the same air as they.’ 5 The leper
shows us who we really are, that we have abandoned care for hu-
manity, our brothers.
Gregory attributes leprosy to a lack of material resources and
gently suggests that time, hard work or simply a friend, could help
alleviate the conditions that cause leprosy. 6 Recommending the
attention of the Healer who is able and willing to reveal our infir-
mities and correct our severed family bonds, Gregory reminds his
hearers to act, to not only see clearly but to repair the disconnected
family by caring for the lepers’ physical bodies. Physical leprosy is
an opportunity for the hard-hearted and fleshly minded to heal the
leprosy of the soul, which itself serves as in image, an icon in the
truest sense. Leprosy exists in the community because of economic
disparity, Gregory affirms. Poverty is the root cause of physical and
spiritual leprosy. Gregory even goes so far as to assert that the
wealthy cannot contract leprosy, recommending they trust God
with the health and maintenance of their bodies. Modern medicine
actually gives weight to St. Gregory’s assessment – it is true that
those with a weakened immune system are especially susceptible to
leprosy, especially those in the more advanced stages of malnutri-
4 Orat. 14.8.
5 Orat. 14.10.
6 Orat. 14.9.
130 KATE MCCRAY
tion. 7 St. Gregory points to poverty and lack of concern as the de-
cay beneath the disease. If a friend would truly help the leper, food
and shelter would cure him.
Painting a picture of the leper calling out in the streets, Grego-
ry slowly begins to reveal the deeper brotherhood:
There lies before our eyes a dreadful and pathetic sight, one
that no one would believe who has not seen it: human beings
alive yet dead, disfigured in almost every part of their bodies,
barely recognizable for who they once were or where they
came from; or rather, the pitiful wreckage of what had once
been human beings. By way of identification they keep calling
out the names of their mothers and fathers, brothers, and plac-
es of origin: ‘I am the son of so-and-so. So-and-so is my moth-
er. This is my name. You used to be a close friend of mine. 8
Master of pathos, St. Gregory pulls at the heartstrings, peeling back
the layers of family to reveal another layer closer to the core of true
family identity. Beneath the layer of common human family, Greg-
ory reveals the nuclear family. The genetic, generational family fails,
however, to provide a better image for true family values. Despite
having given birth to a child, St. Gregory agonizes with a mother
who feels compelled to hate her own offspring as a result of this
rotting disease. The father despises his own son, regardless of their
bond, for fear of becoming infected. Once again leprosy challenges
the constitution and resolve of the family, dismantling both the
human and genetic family.
The leper calling out his name actually reflects a greater theme
in Gregory’s oration, the theme against fleshliness. Once the flesh
has literally fallen away, the leper is forced to call out the names of
his family members for lack of external identification. ‘This is my
mother’ – since I no longer resemble her; ‘you were my friend’ –
since you no longer recognize me. 9 This fleshly association with
personhood is a distraction, however, masking the final and true
International Journal of Leprosy and Other Mycrobacterial Diseases, Vol-

7
ume 73, Number 3, September 2005.

8 Orat. 14.10.
9 Orat. 14.10.
definition of family – the spiritual family. When the flesh serves as

an indication of family, one may recognize – oh you are my sister,
you are my brother – based on genetic markers. But as leprosy
peels back the veil, disfigurement necessitates a deeper vision, a
recognition that Gregory uses as an image of family. When resem-
blances fall away, we are able to see the truth – you are my brother,
indeed, not because of shared traits but because of a shared name –
Christian.
And if any be inclined to simply define the spiritual family as
those participating in Christian rituals, St. Gregory problematizes
any conception of the Church i.e. the worshiping members of the
Body of Christ being the absolute image of the spiritual family.
One would think then that those who gather together voluntarily
because of a shared commitment to Christian rituals would re-
spond differently to the leper’s cries than would the average, non-
familial passerby. St. Gregory weaves back in the echoes of the lep-
ers, who previously called out in agony, repeating his themes as if
he also forgot the sound of their voices for a moment. He seems to
be one of the bystanders for a second, asking ‘Who is not over-
come as their plaintive cries rise in a symphony of lament? What
ear can bear the sound? What eye can take in the sight? They lie
beside one another, a wretched union borne of disease … Some
bystanders gather round them like spectators at a drama, deeply
affected, but only for a moment.’ 10 Gregory does not woo us for
too long. He does not let the wealthy patrons fall into the lull of
thinking a moment’s concern equals anything more than exactly
that – a moment’s concern. Thinking of those conducting liturgies,
singing hymns, speaking praises within a parish he says:
[The lepers’] mournful pleas stand in jarring contrast to the sa-
cred chanting within and their piteous lament forms a coun-
terpoint to the mystic voices. Why lay out the full measure of
their tragedy to those in the midst of celebration? Perhaps I
might raise a dirge even among yourselves, if I were to evoke
in tragic detail all their sorrows; then their suffering will over-
whelm your festal spirit. I speak this way because I am not yet
10 Orat. 14.13.
132 KATE MCCRAY
able to persuade you that sometimes anguish is of more value

than pleasure, sadness than celebration, meritorious tears than
unseemly laughter. 11
Certainly echoing minor prophets, St. Gregory highlights the strict
separation between those celebrating and the lepers mourning the
progressive loss of their lives. And why are these negative emotions
more beneficial at times than laughter, pleasure, and celebration?
Because they are emotions and experiences true family members
feel together, bearing them with and for each other. Fourteen para-
graphs in, Gregory reveals that his address, ‘brethren and fellow
paupers,’ is actually an invitation to recognize our common patron-
al name. The icon or image of family as shared humanity is incom-
plete. The image of family as those with shared genetic markers or
resembled traits is incomplete. The true family image is the one
knitted together by a shared name, a shared and involuntary nam-
ing by which all are obligated to the other as brothers and sisters.
Firstly, these brothers and sisters are human, imbued with the
divine image as are all God’s children. Secondly, as we all die we all
also are born again in new life – certainly those who suffer from
leprosy, both physically and socially, progressively experience death
and, accordingly, visions of new life. They show us glimpses of the
true family. As St. Gregory explains:
This is how they suffer, and in fact far more wretchedly than I
have indicated, these, our brothers in God, whether you like it
or not; whose share in nature is the same as ours; who are
formed of the same clay from the time of our first creation,
knit together with bones and sinews just as we are, clothed
with skin and flesh like everyone else; or rather, more im-
portantly, who have the same portion as the image of God just
as we do and who keep it perhaps better, wasted though their
bodies may be; whose inner nature has put on the same Christ
and who have been entrusted with the same guarantee of the
Spirit as we…who are buried with Christ and raised with him,
11 Orat. 14.13.
provided they suffer with him in order that they may also be
glorified with him. 12
And immediately Gregory identifies our family name – ‘But what
of ourselves? We have received as our inheritance the great and
new designation derived from Christ’s name, we, the holy nation;
the royal priesthood; the peculiar and chosen people.’ 13 What is the
designation from his name but the title Christian? Much more than
a descriptor, the word Christ, indeed Christian, is a title, a patronal
and family name. Those suffering, those with whom the healthy
seem to share no connection, are ‘our brothers in God, whether
you like it or not.’ Gregory’s audience of wealthy patrons would
certainly have expected his oration to bid for their funds, even to
make use of pathos to convince them to dedicate money to care for
lepers.
But Gregory is not only asking for their money – he is reflect-
ing on how the wealthy patron over all of us, Jesus Christ, has giv-
en us his name through a process of communal dying, baptism.
This Patron of patrons suffered, was buried, endured tortures, to
which Gregory responds, ‘What of ourselves, who have been given
so great a model of sympathy and compassion? What will our atti-
tude toward these people be? What shall we do? Shall we neglect
them? Walk on by? Dismiss them as corpses … most certainly not
my brothers!’ 14 The temporal patrons are Gregory’s brethren,
which certainly does not offend them as he too is a wealthy land-
owner – but brethren with them as well are the lepers. St. Gregory
is not offering an opportunity for charity alone but a reclamation of
familial ties between estranged brothers. The patrons are obligated
to the lepers because they have been baptized into the same family,
share the same name, together in the Church form the same icon.
Truly they are united, birthed through death into the true fam-
ily, funded and cared for by the true Patron and brought together
under the banner of his love. St. Gregory reminds those in posi-
tions of aid that as we have experienced great mercy, so too it is the
12 Orat. 14.14.
13 Orat. 14.15.
14 Orat. 14.15.
134 KATE MCCRAY
obligation of the true family to see past the fleshliness of temporal

life and recognize the brethren under Christ. Imploring the patrons
to recognize the image of God in the suffering person, the Theolo-
gian pushes them further to recognize the true image of the family
exemplified in the Church. Leprosy, in this way, does the Church a
favor, having peeled away the distraction of the flesh to reveal the
true bond between us, Christ’s reclamation of disparate children
into the family of God. It is the Savior’s name which unites the
seemingly damaged images, some worn by bodily decay and others
by a leprosy of the soul, into a unified family of God. By recogniz-
ing the essential connectedness of each to each as brothers, Grego-
ry invites the patrons to rewrite their icons, imaging the Christian
family to resemble its ultimate Patron by working toward the heal-
ing of the sick and suffering.
CHRYSOSTOM’S PEDAGOGY OF CHRISTIAN
FATHERHOOD:
REORIENTING THE CHRISTIAN FAMILY
IN A NON-CHRISTIAN SOCIETY
ALEXANDER BLAZE MILLER

In his treatise On Vainglory and the Right Way for Parents to Bring Up
Their Children, St. John Chrysostom resumes one of his favorite cri-
tiques of his congregation: the denunciation of the unceasing pur-
suit of fame and reputation in Greco-Roman society. To demon-
strate the vacuous and ephemeral nature of public opinion, he in-
troduces a few metaphors such as the attraction of the harlot and
the acclaim for one hosting the games (two other common points
of reproach), but he abruptly abandons the subject of vainglory to
turn to child-rearing. 1 At this point, the text comes to be of great
interest for scholars interested in mining Chrysostom for infor-
mation about children and the household in Late Antiquity. For
instance, Blake Leyerle’s survey of children in Chrysostom (citing
this text and several others) shows how Chrysostom frequently
used children as metaphors to reprove the wealthy who were too
1 John Chrysostom, On Vainglory and the Right Way for Parents to Bring
up their Children, trans. in M.L.W. Laistner, Christianity and Pagan Culture in
the Later Roman Empire (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1951), 1–10.
Hereafter: On Vainglory. The translation is employed with the slight altera-
tion of the second person singular to ‘you’ rather than ‘thou’. (The second
person plural is rarely, if ever, used, limiting the argument of Laistner for
this archaic translation strategy.)
135
136 ALEXANDER BLAZE MILLER
often swayed by their childish passions. 2 Leyerle sees this particular

text as an attempt to create a new Christian culture through chil-
dren raised in a thoroughly Christian way. Even if the current gen-
eration is caught in the traps of Greco-Roman society, through
their children vainglory might be eradicated among Christians.
Odd Magne Brakke in his work on children in Late Antiquity
argues that Chrysostom’s treatise continues a uniquely Christian
contribution to theories of child-rearing traceable to the New Tes-
tament epistles, the Didascalia Apostolorum, Apostolic Constitutions, 1
Clement and more. 3 In the Classical worldview, the paterfamilias was
certainly charged with forming his children to be good citizens of
the state or polis, as well as good stewards of the family’s wealth
and land. More specifically, the mother was often seen as the per-
son charged with the supervision of a child’s character formation. 4
In Christianity, the link between parents and their child was not
limited to responsible upbringing; a parent’s salvation is dependent
upon raising faithful Christians. 5 As Geoffrey Nathan notes, an
important Christian contribution to family life was a certain reci-
procity: the child owed parents piety and obedience, while the
mother and father were obliged to provide instruction in moral or
spiritual matters and in proper comportment in the world (respec-
tively). 6
Building off of such studies, this paper will attempt to reveal
that Chrysostom elaborates not only a program of child-rearing but
also a means of transforming the culture of Christians in the
Greco-Roman city. In this treaty, Chrysostom subtly presents the
mechanism for the father’s Christian re-enculturation and even his
2 Blake Leyerle, ‘Appealing to Children’, Journal of Early Christian

Studies 5.2 (1997): 244.
3 Odd Magne Bakke, ‘Upbringing of Children in the Early Church’,
Studia Theologica 60 (2006): 145–163. Hereafter: Brakke, ‘Upbringing’.

4 Arthur C. Repp, ‘John Chrysostom on the Christian Home as a
Teacher’, Concordia Theological Monthly 22 (1951): 939. Also Geoffrey Na-

than, The Family in Late Antiquity (London/New York: Routledge, 2000),
153.
5 Bakke, ‘Upbringing’, 145 passim.
6 Nathan, The Family, 142–3.
CHRYSOSTOM’S PEDAGOGY OF CHRISTIAN FATHERHOOD 137
salvation: the pedagogue of Christian fatherhood. 7 This phrase ‘the

pedagogue of Christian fatherhood’ is intended to have two layers
of meaning, instructing both the son and the father. I will explore
each of these meanings separately with regard to the son’s and the
father’s lives in the home and in society.
NOT CHRISTIAN ISOLATIONISM

As we consider the Christian father as a new Christian pedagogue
for his son, let me clarify the limit to which I believe Chrysostom is
suggesting a departure from the late fourth century Greco-Roman
way of life. As much as Chrysostom is shifting family dynamics, he
is not doing away with the normal means of child-rearing that his
audience would already be employing. First, we might consider the
place of pedagogues in the common sense. The pedagogue’s role
was to form the child intellectually, socially, and even morally. This
was done through elementary instruction in reading and writing, as
well as instruction in the social graces of table manners and eti-
quette. 8 Once the child was of age for more formal schooling, the
pedagogue would accompany him as something like a chaperone,
reporting on his behavior outside of the house. 9
It was extremely common that a household would include
nurses and pedagogues (either slaves or freedmen) for the rearing
of children, and this applied not only to the wealthiest families. 10
Within this treatise, Chrysostom complains of those who stretch
their meager resources to buy such slaves (among other luxuries) to
7 As Chrysostom’s treatise is focused primarily upon the relationship

of father and son, this paper will follow suit with the recognition that
Chrysostom briefly suggests in the final paragraph, that mothers keep the
same principles in mind for their daughters, mutatis mutandis.
8 Keith Bradley, ‘The Roman Family at Dinner’, in eds. Inge Nielsen
and Hanne Sigismund Nielsen, Meals in a Social Context (Oakville, CT:

Aarhus University Press, 1998), 41. Hereafter: Bradley, Meals.
9 For an overview of the pedagogue’s function, see Keith Bradley,
Discovering the Roman Family (New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press,

1991), 51–55. Hereafter: Bradley, Discovering.
10 Bradley, Discovering, 47–8.
secure the good regard of their neighbors and friends. 11 According

to one scholar, ‘the omnipresence of unfree labor made it impracti-
cal not to use them. It might be the equivalent of asking a modern
parent not to use electricity.’ 12
Despite this ubiquity, the use of slaves was not without criti-
cism from either pagan or Christian writers. Though the pedagogue
was supposed to instruct a child in elementary education and social
life, it was not uncommon for a pedagogue to be retained well be-
yond adolescence, and tombstones bear witness to the lifelong af-
fection the child might have for his pedagogue. 13 Given the high
rates of childhood mortality and divorce in the later Empire, cou-
pled with the travelling required of fathers in the military, trade, or
government life, the ‘nuclear’ family could be quite unstable for
parent and child. In such a setting, Keith Bradley suggests that
pedagogues provided ‘a kind of compensatory mechanism for the
essential lack of stability … and offset the far from remote possibil-
ity [of a child’s death].’ 14 The pedagogue ‘filled’ the life of the son,
and such close contact during his formative years often resulted in
a strong emotional bond, sometimes supplanting such a bond be-
tween parent and child. 15 Some ecclesiastical figures even suggested
that mothers do away with nurses, perhaps to increase the affection
of a mother for her child and vice versa. 16
Chrysostom, however, offers no such discouragement in his
treatise. He assumes the presence and normal role of a pedagogue,
provided that the pedagogue is chosen with great care. 17 This ech-
oes concerns from pagan writers such as Cicero, Plutarch, and
Martial that such an important figure be a bonus vir. 18 Chrysostom
11Chrysostom, On Vainglory, 13–15.

12Nathan, The Family, 154. Cf. Bradley, Discovering, 47–8.
13 Bradley, Discovering, 51.
15 Bradley, Meals, 41, and Bradley, Discovering, 51–5. Also Bakke,
When Children Became People, trans. Brian McNeil (Minneapolis: Augsburg

Fortress, 2005), 35–6. Hereafter: Bakke, When Children.
16 Nathan, 150.
17 Chrysostom, On Vainglory, 38.
even instructs the father on drawing the pedagogue into his scheme
of Christian education.
Similarly, Chrysostom shows little wariness of the pagan
schooling that a Christian child would receive. Certainly, there was
cause for Christians to be concerned about pagan schools. The
curriculum was full of pagan literature and religion, and even the
apostate emperor Julian saw the conflict between Christianity and
pagan schools, issuing a ban on Christian teachers in such schools.
Nonetheless, a responsible father with the means would see to it
that his son’s career prospects would not be stunted by a lack of
education. As Nathan puts it, ‘No doubt many relied on a classical
program for their children without fully being comfortable with its
pagan trappings; but it is clear, too, that many were simply oblivi-
ous to the concern entirely.’ 19
Though Chrysostom is critical of much of pagan culture, he
does not suggest abandoning the schools in this treatise. While
such schooling feeds young men into the culture of the social and
political positioning that he decries, ‘Chrysostom simply takes it for
granted that the children of Christian parents are pupils in ordinary
schools; his concern is to ensure a correct balance or relationship
between their Christian formation and encyclical studies.’ 20 He
speaks of the fear that a child would know the feeling of waiting
for punishment from his teacher, 21 as well as the use of both Chris-
tian and pagan examples of temperate men. 22 As Bernard Schlager
observes, Chrysostom need not worry unduly about the pagan edu-
cation, because ‘its value pales in comparison with the more signifi-
cant elements of the family home and the church community.’ 23 If
a child is well formed in Christianity, he will approach his pagan
education and the predominantly pagan culture critically. 24 By the
19 Nathan, The Family, 142.

20 Bakke, When Children, 210.
23 Bernard Schlager, ‘Saints Basil and John Chrysostom on the Edu-
cation of Christian Children’, Greek Orthodox Theological Review 36 (1991):

49.
24 Schlager, Saints Basil, 51–4.
close of the treatise, a Christian father can even encourage career

and political success without fear of vainglory. 25
THE FATHER AS A CHRISTIAN PEDAGOGUE

If Chrysostom does not question Christians’ use of pedagogues and
schools just like their pagan neighbors, where does the father
whom he addresses enter into the picture? I submit that while
Chrysostom allows for the continued use of a pedagogue, his pro-
gram of child-rearing places the father within the role of pedagogue
both in the home and in the city. Rather than delegating his son’s
character formation to a well-chosen pedagogue, the Christian fa-
ther takes it upon himself to form his son into a thoroughly Chris-
tian paterfamilias.
When he makes the transition from speaking of the infection
of vainglory within the Christian community to speaking of child-
rearing, Chrysostom briefly sets out his program in terms of what
has been neglected by Christian fathers. He says, ‘vice is hard to
drive away for this reason, that no one takes thought for his chil-
dren, no one discourses to them about virginity and sobriety or
about contempt for wealth and fame, or of the precepts laid down
in the Scriptures.’ 26 In this transition, we must note that Chrysos-
tom does not exhort his audience to ensure that pedagogues and
nurses instill these virtues. Rather, it is parents who must speak to
their children of these things, and indeed, the Christian father must
be very attentive to and present in the daily life of his son in order
to extirpate passions and vice, as well as introduce a Christian way
of life.
Let us begin, then with the father’s role in forming his son’s
character within the home. Here, the paterfamilias is ultimately re-
sponsible for his entire household: his wife, his children, any ex-
tended family, as well as slaves and servants. This applied in legal
and social realms, and in Christian circles it also applied to the spir-
itual situation of his household. Additionally, we should expect that
the oikos was something of a public place; those coming and going

may include friends, clients, business associates, and of course fel-

low citizens whom one would want to impress. 27 Far from being a
retreat from public life and the pursuit of reputation, the oikos was
the very site of much social positioning, and children could not
easily be admitted to these interactions. Greco-Roman society gen-
erally regarded children as resistant to social education. They were
prone to violent or destructive behavior, inordinate desire, and
costly vices. 28 It is not even clear that they would have been permit-
ted to dine with their father with any regularity, due to the social
jockeying underway with his guests. 29
While the paterfamilias is vaguely responsible for this process of
character formation and socialization, it was often the pedagogue
who was given this charge, and it was not an easy one. Nathan
writes, ‘To bring a child to a point where he or she acted more or
less in accordance with the rules of society, let alone the precepts
of Christianity, was therefore not unlike training a dumb beast.’ 30
Chrysostom, however, pushes the father to take a more direct role
by arguing that moral formation contributes to social formation,
and these undertaken properly lead to the goal of most fathers: a
successful, financially secure, and married son – in short a bonus
paterfamilias. 31 We shall first examine this formation within the oikos
before considering life in the world.
Chrysostom introduces moral formation with the metaphor of
the son’s soul as a city, and the gates are the tongue, ears, eyes,
27 Bradley, Discovering, 8–9.

29 Bradley argues that while it was permissible for sons and wives to
join the paterfamilias and his friends at table, this was by no means as-
sumed. Additionally, he cites Quintilian’s concern that the convivium would
have been a corruptive influence on children. Meals, 41–44. In contrast,
Nielsen notes that in mourning Caligula banned pleasures like laughing,
the baths, and dining with one’s parents, wife, or children. If the former
were common pleasures, she argues, we ought to assume that dining with
family was both common and considered pleasant. Hanne Sigismund
Nielsen, ‘Roman Children at Mealtimes’, in Meals in a Social Context, 48–9.
nose, and touch. It is the father’s role to fortify the city well and
establish prudent laws. Guarding the gate of the tongue, the father
himself must keep a close watch over what his son says. ‘Words
that are insolent and slanderous, foolish, shameful, common, and
worldly, all these we must expel.’ 32 Furthermore, the son is not to
swear or be contentious. 33 We must note that, while these are not
unusual habits of speech to condemn, it is to the father that Chrys-
ostom says, ‘If you should see him transgressing this law, punish
him,’ 34 and later, ‘Stop his mouth from speaking evil. If you see
him traducing another, curb him and direct his tongue toward his
own faults.’ 35
The fact that this act of bridling the tongue is the duty of the
Christian father, rather than that of the pedagogue, is emphasized
more explicitly in three ways. First, Chrysostom directs the father
to instruct the child’s mother, pedagogue, and servants to correct
the boy for vicious speech. 36 Thus associated with unspecified
household servants, we see the pedagogue – and even the mother!
– as secondary authorities or disciplinarians after the father. Addi-
tionally, the father is taking a more direct role in the formation of
his son than simply selecting a bonus vir as pedagogue. This empha-
sis on the father is reinforced when Chrysostom considers how
fathers often instruct their sons in the disciplines of military life.
Fathers, he says, teach their sons to shoot and to ride. They even
teach them about military dress and how to wear it. Similarly, they
ought to take such interest in training their young ‘soldiers of
God.’ 37 Finally, the father is told that he should not overlook the
verbal abuse of his son towards a servant, such as the pedagogue,
‘for if he knows that he may not ill use even a slave, he will abstain
all the more from insulting or slandering one who is free and of his
class.’ 38 Elsewhere in this text, Chrysostom even suggests that the

father instruct the other children and slaves to provoke the son in
question to practice controlling his anger. 39 As the lesson goes, the
father is to teach his son to be considerate of slaves (i.e. not em-
ploy slaves when he could perform a task without undue inconven-
ience), as slavery was not a natural state but a result of the Fall. Ex-
panding upon this, some are slaves to human masters, and some
slaves to their habits and passions. In light of the natural (i.e. pre-
lapsarian) state of things, slaves are to be treated as brothers, own-
ership aside. 40 Such lessons on the treatment of slaves would cer-
tainly be more effective coming from the paterfamilias than a slave
who benefits from them.
To keep vicious speech from emerging from the mouth, the
father must guard the second gate: hearing. If the youth does not
hear vicious speech, Chrysostom reasons, he will be unlikely to
generate it on his own. 41 The father must pay attention to how the
slaves and servants who come into contact with his son speak. 42
Apparently, Chrysostom expects the house to include loose-lipped
nurses who either prattle on about frivolous topics or gossip about
who kissed whom in town. 43 If a slave speaks lewdly in the pres-
ence of his son, the father ought to ‘punish him straightaway and
inquire zealously and sharply into the offense committed.’ 44 Of
course, this is not limited to the slaves of the household. ‘If any
man’ – perhaps even a friend, client, or neighbor – ‘would relate
what is base, let us not … suffer him to come near the boy.’ 45 Cer-
tainly, this concern ought to be considered in the careful selection
of the boy’s pedagogue, but Chrysostom does not seem to be will-
ing to allow the guarding of this gate to be delegated fully, even to a
The gate of the nose is very briefly addressed by the prohibi-

bonus vir.
tion against perfumes and aromatic herbs. Chrysostom warns the

40 Chrysostom, On Vainglory, 71–2.
father that if he should allow the boy to smell such things, it will
relax the otherwise vigilant and rational brain. No doubt, with a
relaxed brain passions will run wild, and the boy will seek ways to
gratify them. 46 Touch is also treated somewhat fleetingly with the
simple instruction to keep sons from soft couches, clothing, and
bodies; as an athlete for Christ, he ought to be accustomed to aus-
terity. 47 Such austerity is to be coupled with an insistence that a son
must not rely upon slaves to do things that he can do himself, such
as wash himself and put on his own coat. 48
These may seem unusual points of contention, but Chrysos-
tom repeatedly insists that these are not ‘trifles’ in the formation of
a boy, and even in the formation of society at large. 49 Let us recall
first that this is a treatise on vainglory, which manifests itself in an
ostentatious delight in pleasurable things or in a well ornamented
house. To train one’s son against such delight is to create a prudent
steward of family resources, an important concern of the paterfamil-
ias. Second, it is in attention to such details of daily life (‘trifles’)
that the value of the virtuous pedagogue is expressed. This is why
the pedagogue chaperones his charge at home and in the city. In
this case, the father (as pedagogue) watches over his son’s daily
surroundings and encounters, recognizing that these contribute to
his character formation as much as any lesson articulated with
words.
Of course, intercepting vice is not a full program of moral
formation and socialization. There must be some positive contribu-
tion to fill the void left by the eliminated vicious elements of daily
life, and so Chrysostom gives the father the task of creating a thor-
oughly Christian culture for his son. Rather than frivolous, lewd, or
abusive speech that a child may have picked up from slaves or
guests, he should have on his lips the Word of God, thanksgiving,
‘grave and reverent words’ or even discourse on God and philoso-
phy. 50 So, too, his father should teach him hymns to sing, and this

to a double-end: his tongue will be well occupied, and his passions

will not be enflamed by the salacious songs he might hear from
slaves and visitors. 51 Even austerity is not an end in itself. This may
be directed toward fasting on Wednesdays and Fridays, as well as
vigils of fervent and contrite prayer. 52
While it is impossible to escape moral formation in Chrysos-
tom’s proposal, we will now shift our focus to another area of for-
mation within the oikos: the social formation required for engaging
in meals with adults. Nielsen has noted that, at least for upper class
males of Greco-Roman society, the distinction between a public
and a private meal is tenuous at best. 53 According to Bradley, din-
ing is to be placed firmly within ‘the competition for public recog-
nition and increase in fama that obsessed the Roman ruling clas-
ses.’ 54 If wife and children were present for a meal with guests, they
were, to some degree, part of the paterfamilias’ display in this com-
petition. Therefore, in contrast to the modern table as the site for
educating children in social graces, the Late Antique meal was an
event for which children had to be externally prepared. 55 With the
father thus occupied with his guests, it fell to the pedagogue to
teach table manners and etiquette before a child ascended to dining
with his father, and this included the important social skill of telling
stories.
This is perhaps one of the clearest examples of the pedagogue
being replaced by the father. Chrysostom suggests that the father
should be eating with his wife and children, already noted as a
thorny issue in modern scholarly circles. 56 Beyond the fact that the
father is eating with his wife and children, Chrysostom goes on at
length about teaching the art of storytelling at the table with biblical
stories. Outside of the program of this treatise, Nathan notes that
Christian instruction within the home may have amounted to little
more than rote memorization of lists of vices or Scripture passages,
51 Chrysostom, On Vainglory, 34, 77.

52 Chrysostom, On Vainglory, 22, 79–80.
53 Nielsen, ‘Roman Children’, 58.
54 Bradley, Meals, 50.
55 Bradley, Meals, 45.
56 See note 29 above.
‘frequently a dull pursuit.’ 57 In this act of storytelling, Chrysostom

maps out how the father can combine both religious instruction
and social formation. He urges the father to tell stories from the
Bible in an interesting and compelling way. 58 He should use lan-
guage that his son can understand, as well as vivifying the story
with examples from his son’s life. For instance, the fear that Cain
felt after being sent to wander the earth could be compared to the
trepidation that a boy felt before receiving punishment from his
teacher. 59 Or to explain just how alone Jacob was after fleeing with
his father’s blessing, the father should emphasize that Jacob ‘had
no one with him, no slave or nurse or tutor…’ 60 After repeating
and embellishing the story in this way for several days, the father
should ask his son to tell it. Chrysostom believes that, even before
they explicitly discuss the moral lessons involved, the familiarity
brought about by this repetition will internalize the story to the
soul’s benefit. 61 They will, of course, draw out specific lessons, and
Chrysostom offers a few suggestions, such as the downfall suffered
by Esau as a result of the greed of his belly. 62 After the story has
been combed for moral lessons, the family may move on to anoth-
er story, and as a boy grows older, the stories can move from the
more elementary moral lessons in the Old Testament to stories of
God’s punishment and eventually to New Testament stories in-
volving heaven, hell, and more nuanced moral conundrums. 63 All
the while, the child is being taught how to tell a captivating story
and how to consider the lessons that it extols.
If we now turn our attention to life outside of the home, we
encounter some of Chrysostom’s greatest worries. First, we hear
that the pedagogue, who would normally accompany and report on
the comportment of his charge, is to be instructed to avoid the al-

leyways, lest one’s son see something scandalous or suggestive. 64

The father, however, has to deal with the more difficult problem of
comportment and scandal: the spectacles and the theater offend
the gate of the eye and enflame lust. 65 Chrysostom denounces the
games and the theater time and time again in his sermons. They
were a showcase of blasphemy, violence, and sexual depravity, and
the crowds in the stands were not any better. Unfortunately,
Chrysostom could not assume that his congregation was in any way
immune to the lure of the spectacles. So, his response is two-
pronged. First, the father ought to take his son to the theater or
spectacle, but only as people are leaving. He should explain that the
spectacles include ‘the sight of naked women uttering shameful
words,’ and that ‘there it is impossible not to hear what is base.’ 66
Such entertainment is crude and only fit for slaves. Then, as men
are filing out, the father should point out and mock the old men,
who act more senselessly than the young, and the young men who
are mad with lust. 67
Instead, the father is to offer his son a number of alternatives
in the city. Rather than crude sights, he should take his son to see
beautiful buildings and idyllic scenery. The stories of the theater
can be replaced with the compelling telling of beneficial stories
about sober Christian or pagan men. Even a sober slave, a son
should be reminded, is more virtuous and freer than an intemper-
ate free man. 68 In contrast to the arena, the father should take his
son to church where he will be excited that he already knows the
stories from their rehearsal at table, and he will meet saintly men,
such as the bishop. Indeed, the father should boast of his son
meeting and being praised by the bishop, so that the son may come
to value such pious company. 69
In light of this extensive program of training in virtue and
Christian enculturation, it is clear that Chrysostom’s ideal Christian

father is far from a removed and authoritative paterfamilias. Rather

than delegating the tasks of moral and social formation to his wife
or a pedagogue, Chrysostom’s paterfamilias assumes a very active
role in his son’s formation; the father is present to his son at home
and in the city, watching and correcting him. With the exception of
taking the child to school, we may wonder what time is left for the
pedagogue (or for the political and commercial life of the father,
for that matter).
CHRISTIAN FATHERHOOD AS THE FATHER’S PEDAGOGUE

Having considered the effect of the new Christian father-
pedagogue on his son, let us briefly consider the consequence for
the father. On Vainglory begins with an indictment:
Has any man done what I asked? Has he prayed to God on our
behalf and on behalf of the whole body of the Church for the
quenching of the conflagration, begotten of Vainglory, which
is bringing ruin on the entire body of the Church and is tearing
the single body asunder into many separate limbs and is dis-
rupting love? 70
Clearly, the pursuit of vainglory is a problem to which the Christian
congregation was not immune, and Chrysostom’s proposal seems
to seek to resolve it primarily through a new Christian encultura-
tion via child-rearing. When Blake Leyerle cites this text in her
work on children in Chrysostom, she seems to take for granted that
Chrysostom has little hope to re-educate the adults of the
Church. 71 Bakke, too, believes that Chrysostom ‘looks in vain
among the Christians of his own age’ for a Christian, rather than
worldly, lifestyle. 72 In fact, they may be an impediment to further
evangelization of the culture. We hear echoes of this in Chrysos-
tom’s pleas to form children well. In one case, children are like soft
71 Leyerle, 267. In reference to other texts, she sees children as use-
ful in educating adults by showing how childish adult pursuits and activi-
ties are.
wax; for those well raised, virtue will harden and be difficult to
change. 73 Vice, by contrast, can also harden for those poorly reared,
‘for men who have been reared and grown old with a bad constitu-
tion, it would be very difficult to reform.’ 74
Despite this depressing picture, Bakke does not think that
Chrysostom has lost hope for the adult generation. They are saved
through the proper rearing of their children, and there are theolog-
ical and worldly reasons to encourage them in this. Theologically,
the rearing of children is the greatest example of love of one’s
neighbor; it is a fulfillment of the natural concern of a parent for a
child implanted by God; and it reveals the image of God within the
child. 75 On the other hand, Bakke contests, Chrysostom appeals to
vainglory at the very time that he is arguing against it. A child
reared in virtue will bring glory upon his parents, in Chrysostom’s
thinking. From a negative angle, a disobedient child would bring
shame upon his parents, while on the positive side, Chrysostom
reorients honor to show that a virtuous child and well-ordered
household bring great honor within Christian circles through the
recognition of closeness to God. 76
Chrysostom certainly argues that good Christian fatherhood is
to the father’s benefit. Early in On Vainglory he says quite clearly,
‘You will be the first to benefit, if you have a good son, and then
God. You labor for yourself.’ 77 However, I would like to contest
the notion that Christian parents are incorrigible, only redeemed by
rearing a saint (as if sanctity were transferrable via a joint-account).
As much as Chrysostom recognizes the difficulty in changing old
habits, he is surprisingly optimistic about the possibility. Of those
who ‘have grown old with a bad constitution’ he adds, ‘Even they
can be reformed if they be willing.’ 78 On the one hand, Chrysostom
warns the father father that this process must proceed laboriously
day-by-day, and he must devote all of his leisure to rearing his

76 Bakke, When Children, 169–72.
child. 79 On the other hand, Chrysostom gives one hope by saying

that with firm boundaries and penalties established, as well as the
right guardians to keep watch over oneself, bad habits could be
reversed in as little as two months’ time. 80 In this treatise, Chrysos-
tom has articulated the boundaries (quite literally) through his met-
aphor of the gates, and perhaps he has even presented us with the
right pedagogue: Christian fatherhood itself.
Though it may seem abstract, and Chrysostom does not ex-
plicitly say this, 81 the onerous task of rearing a Christian child takes
on its own life for the father’s instruction. It begins before the son
is even born. Chrysostom urges fathers to abandon pagan practices
of giving a family name to his son, as Christians have no need for
eternalizing their memory via such practices. Similarly, he con-
demns the superstition of attaching names to lamps – the lamp that
burns the longest portends longevity for the son, and its name is
given. Instead, he suggests naming the child after someone right-
eous (a saint, martyr, or bishop) ‘to train not only the child but the
father, when he reflects that he is the father of John or Elijah or
James.’ 82 Thus, he will frame his life and his family life primarily as
one of kinship with the righteous, rather than with his ancestors.
From the day of his son’s birth, the father is then chaperoned
daily by his obligation to his son. Chrysostom reminds his hearers
that ‘Nothing, yeah nothing, is so effective as emulation.’ It is a
‘more potent instrument than fear or promises or anything else.’ 83
If we may take up once more the synthetic boundary of home life
and private life, we can consider the education that the father re-
ceives at home, and how this alters his life in the city. At home, as
the father is chasing off those who would expose his son to vicious
talk or scandalous songs, he too must refrain from gossip, slander
and the like in the presence of his son. (As many parents know,

81 I believe that if Chrysostom had presented this as a program in
self-improvement, he would have a more difficult time in sustaining his

audience’s interest.
self-censorship is not without its hiccups, but it does become a

habit in itself, manifesting itself even in settings without one’s
child.) He even roots out wicked or frivolous speech among his
servants whenever he hears it. Soon, his friends must learn to re-
frain from such speech in the Christian household, lest they risk
the embarrassment of being corrected or even ejected. Also, if the
father is to keep his son from sweet smells and soft couches, he
can hardly indulge in these things himself without risking his son’s
exposure.
This pedagogue does not only keep the father from corruptive
influences at the gates of his city, it also articulates instruction for
him when he teaches his son. For instance, in the law, the latitude
afforded a paterfamilias with regard to his household is shocking to
many modern students. The father could not only disown a diso-
bedient child, he legally had the power of life and death over his
child (albeit in reality this was justifiable by rather limited circum-
stances). Nathan argues that beating a child was shameful, in that it
blurred the line between child and slave, demonstrating ‘a startling
lack of control.’ 84 Yet, Chrysostom’s advice on punishing a child
speaks to its common practice. He tells fathers that they should not
solely approach punishment with beatings. When a verbal re-
proach, stern glance, or even threat will do, that should suffice.
However, threats should not be hollow; without them occasionally
resulting in a beating, the threat will accomplish nothing. On the
other hand, a regimen of regular beatings is not the answer. Chrys-
ostom offers the insight: ‘Have not recourse to blows constantly
and accustom him not to be trained by the rod; for if he feel it con-
stantly as he is being trained, he will learn to despise it. And when
he has learnt to despise it, he has reduced your system to naught.’ 85
In this way, Chrysostom indirectly insists that the Christian father’s
punishment of his son must be executed solely for his son’s bet-
terment. It cannot be clouded by rage or undue violence.
We see a similar lesson with regard to slaves. A master was
certainly allowed to beat slaves, although at the point of immodera-

tion, beatings brought shame on the master. 86 This hardly means

that masters exercised restraint, though. If a slave was beaten to
death, a master only had to prove that he did not intend to kill his
slave – certainly not a high bar. 87 At this time, the Church appar-
ently accepted both the institution of slavery and the beating of
slaves as a form of correction. It did attempt to shield slaves from
vengeful or vindictive masters by offering temporary asylum, on
the grounds that the slave would return to his master, and the mas-
ter would not act vengefully toward his slave. 88 Chrysostom, how-
ever, put in the father’s own mouth the arguments against both
rage and mistreatment of slaves. As we noted above, if he is to be
free, he cannot be slave to his rage. Additionally, he must recognize
the natural kinship he has with his slaves under God.
In addition to moral teachings, fatherhood also provides
Chrysostom’s hearer with a basic Christian literacy, much like the
ordinary pedagogue’s instruction in reading and writing. He is
charged with putting the words of Scripture and hymns of the
Church on the tongue of his son. In order to rehearse such things
with his son, the father must learn them himself. In another work,
Against the Opponents of Monastic Life, Chrysostom faced an audience
who thought that Scripture was for monks. In this treatise, Chrys-
ostom presses the issue from another angle. If Christian fathers are
to tell biblical stories to their wife and children, they must become
familiar with the events presented in Scripture. If they are going to
tell these stories in a compelling way and draw out lessons for their
children, they must dedicate time to meditating upon and internal-
izing the texts. We have already noted the value that the repetition
alone has for the soul, let alone such focused concentration upon
the words and meaning of Scripture.
Outside of the home, what does this pedagogue allow for the
father’s leisure? He certainly cannot go to the theater, except to
impress upon his son (and upon himself) the crude vice of it all.
Instead of leading him to a school of rhetoric or philosophy, the
Christian father’s pedagogue leads him to the Church, to the com-

pany of bishops and monks, and into nature. To speak philosophi-

cally with his son about the beauty of nature and of fine architec-
ture, the father himself is being trained in such discourse. Inside
and outside of the home, the Christian father is being diverted
from the pagan delights of the city as his ever-vigilant pedagogue
accompanies and instructs him in a thoroughly Christian way of
life. If Chrysostom’s project succeeded, Christians would surely
stand out from their pagan neighbors both in their mores at home
and in the places that they frequented.
In his comparison between St. Basil’s and St. John Chrysos-
tom’s attitudes towards pagan education, Bernard Schlager con-
cludes: ‘Chrysostom's homily was apparently not as influential as
Basil's address perhaps because it offered no revolutionary insights
in its discussion of the roles of Christian parents and the Bible in
the moral formation of children.’ 89 In the case of the Christian fa-
ther, we have seen how the paterfamilias has changed in his home
and in the city, without withdrawing from his professional or polit-
ical life. We have also seen the role of regular familial Scripture
study in Chrysostom’s educational scheme. Perhaps it was not radi-
cal, but it certainly was a revolutionary approach, aimed at the
transformation of the whole of Late Antique culture via multiple
generations of Christians.
89 Schlager, Saints Basil, 54.

WHAT MAKES A SOCIETY?
AN ORTHODOX PERSPECTIVE ON
ASCETICISM, MARRIAGE, THE FAMILY,
AND SOCIETY 1
DYLAN PAHMAN
INTRODUCTION
What makes a society? While this may seem like a simple question,
the various ways in which different schools of Christian social
thought answer it have wide-reaching ramifications for how one
approaches any societal challenge. This essay seeks to offer a con-
structive, Orthodox Christian answer to the question and argues
for its broader relevance to Christian social thought as a whole. I
begin by very briefly surveying three other approaches, the Roman
Catholic (subsidiarity), neo-Calvinist (sphere sovereignty), and the
presocial or statist. Drawing upon Fr. Georges Florovsky’s defini-
tion of true asceticism, patristic biblical commentary and theology,
and Vladimir Solovyov’s analysis of the ascetic nature of marriage
in his work The Justification of the Good, I argue for asceticism as the
Orthodox answer to the question, ‘What makes a society?’ 2
1 A large portion of this paper, which was first presented at the 2012
Sophia conference, is a revision of two sections from my forthcoming
monograph to be published by the Acton Institute. My thanks to those at
the Sophia conference for their helpful comments and feedback.
2 A good account of asceticism in the Orthodox tradition comes
from Archimandrite Sophrony. ‘Principles of Orthodox Asceticism.’

Trans. Edmonds, R. In Philippou, A. J. ed. The Orthodox Ethos. (Oxford:
155
156 DYLAN PAHMAN
ORTHODOX ANSWERS
Though several principles have been advocated as the core Ortho-
dox principle of societal engagement – such as incarnation and res-
urrection, holism, diakonia, and agape – these, however true and use-
ful, tend to be based upon little substantial research and, in some
cases, can be overly abstract for a subject that requires a healthy
practicality and realism in order to be applicable. 3 In general,
Holywell Press, 1964), 259–86. Unfortunately, though I agree that monas-

ticism contains transferable concepts to asceticism in the world, he focus-
es almost exclusively on the former, only mentioning the latter in passing
throughout. Thus, for example, his long study of the monastic virtue of
virginity, however important, needs to be adapted to chastity outside of
marriage and sexual moderation within to have any real relevance. The
translation of this monastic concept to the everyday context of people in
the world is left to the reader. Metropolitan Ware, on the other hand,
gives a far more practical assessment in the context of Great Lent. See
Bishop Kallistos of Diokleia. ‘Lent and the Consumer Society.’ In ed.
Walker, A. and Carras, C. Living Orthodoxy in the Modern World: Orthodox
Christianity and Society. (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press,
2000), 64–84. Also notable is Bulgakov, who warned pre-soviet Russia of
the dangers of replacing the ideal of the ascetic saint with the revolution-
ary student. See Bulgakov, S. ‘Heroism and Asceticism: Reflections on the
Religious Nature of the Russian Intelligentsia.’ In Vekhi: Landmarks – A
Collection of Articles about the Russian Intelligentsia, ed. and trans. Shatz, M.S.
and Zimmerman, J.E. M. E. Sharpe. (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 1994),
[1909], 17–50. In addition, for a brief account of the relevance of freely-
chosen asceticism in the context of human rights, see Archbishop Anasta-
sios (Yannoulatos). Facing the World: Orthodox Christian Essays on Global
Concerns. (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press; Geneva, Switzer-
land: WCC Publications, 2003), 73–4.
3 For incarnation and resurrection, see Agourides, S. ‘The Social
Character of Orthodoxy.’ In ed. Philippou, A.J. The Orthodox Ethos, 209–

20. For holism, see Crow, G. ‘The Orthodox Vision of Wholeness.’ In
Living Orthodoxy, 7–22. For diakonia, see Bishop Basil of Sergievo. ‘Living
in the Future.’ In Living Orthodoxy, 23–36. For agape, see Constantelos, D.J.
‘The Social Ethos of Eastern Orthodoxy.’ in ed. Costa, F.D. God and Char-
ASCETICISM, MARRIAGE, THE FAMILY, AND SOCIETY 157
though, there seems to be little thoughtful reflection on such mat-

ters at all. As Aristotle Papanikolaou observes,
For the first time in nearly six hundred years, the Orthodox
Church has no shadow [lurking over it], and yet it remains
somewhat in the dark on how to respond to the political reali-
ties it confronts. A somewhat half-hearted endorsement of
democracy with a push toward assuring a cultural hegemony
seems to have emerged as the norm. The result is a lack of sus-
tained reflection on what the Orthodox affirmation that crea-
tion was created for communion with God would mean for an
Orthodox response to the given political and cultural situa-
tion. 4
While I find Papanikolaou’s own work to be helpful in bringing
some much needed light into this darkness, the question ‘what
makes a society?’ is broader than faith and politics. My concern is
to discover a fundamental, Orthodox principle of human society
itself, and I argue that such a principle can be found in asceticism.
For the sake of comparison, however, let me first consider some
answers from other traditions.
OTHER ANSWERS
For Roman Catholics, each community has a God-given nature and
purpose. With this in mind, the Roman Catholic answer to the
question comes in the form of subsidiarity, which holds that each
social problem is to be addressed by the most local community and
only appropriated by a higher level if a particular community is in
need of outside assistance (subsidium). Pope Pius XI describes it in
the context of the state as follows,
The supreme authority of the State ought … to let subordinate
groups handle matters and concerns of lesser importance,
which would otherwise dissipate its efforts greatly. Thereby the
ity: Images of Eastern Orthodox Theology, Spirituality, and Practice. (Brookline,

MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1979), 75–87.
4 Papanikolaou, A. The Mystical as Political: Democracy and Non-Radical
Orthodoxy. (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2012), 53.
158 DYLAN PAHMAN
State will more freely, powerfully, and effectively do all those

things that belong to it alone because it alone can do them: di-
recting, watching, urging, restraining, as occasion requires and
necessity demands. Therefore, those in power should be sure
that the more perfectly a graduated order is kept among the
various associations, in observance of the principle of ‘subsidi-
ary function,’ the stronger social authority and effectiveness
will be the happier and more prosperous the condition of the
State. 5
Subsidiarity can be viewed as a social application of the idea that
grace perfects nature 6 – all levels of society are linked together, de-
pendent upon one another and ultimately upon divine grace for
their fulfillment. Thus from a Roman Catholic perspective what
makes a society is the hierarchy of communities related to one an-
other through the principle of subsidiarity.
For neo-Calvinists, society is composed of spheres which
have their own internal laws. 7 The neo-Calvinist answer is that each
sphere is to be sovereign over its own domain and not intrude up-
on any other. The various spheres of social life – politics, econom-
ics, science, art, church, family, and so on – are to be autonomous
in distinction from each other while, nevertheless, in solidarity with
one another in a common calling to be subordinated to the sover-
eign rule of Jesus Christ over all creation. As Dutch theologian,
pastor, statesman, and polymath Abraham Kuyper famously put it
in the context of education, ‘Oh, no single piece of our mental
world is to be hermetically sealed off from the rest, and there is not
a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over
5 Pope Pius XI, Encyclical Letter Quadrigesimo Anno (1931), 80. Ac-
cessed September 13, 2012: viz.
http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/pius_xi/encyclicals/documents/hf_p
-xi_enc_19310515_quadragesimo-anno_en.html.
6 See Aquinas, T. Summa Theologica, Ia q. 1 a. 8 ad 2.
7 For an introduction to this perspective, see Kuyper, A. ‘Sphere
Sovereignty’ (1880). In ed. Bratt, J.D. Abraham Kuyper, A Centennial Reader.

(Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 461–90.
which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: ‘Mine!’’ 8 This
sphere sovereignty, then, is what truly makes a society from a neo-
Calvinist perspective.
Other traditions have other answers. For example, one prom-
inent approach – perhaps more often assumed today than thought-
fully chosen – is the idea that human nature is presocial. This bar-
baric state of nature is only overcome when order is imposed upon
people from outside of them by a powerful, sovereign state. Natu-
rally, this statist approach favors state-centered solutions to social
challenges in accordance with its assumed answer to the question,
‘What makes a society?’ The power of the state makes society, and
the state is therefore the primary solution to all of society’s prob-
lems. 9
My goal in the rest of this paper is to very briefly outline an
Orthodox Christian answer to this question. As may become ap-
parent, I do not feel that it is mutually exclusive with the Roman
Catholic or neo-Calvinist approaches but rather that it offers an-
other perspective by bringing to the forefront an area of Christian
thought often neglected or minimalized by these traditions in dis-
cussions of social ethics: asceticism. This, I argue, is the Orthodox
8 Kuyper. ‘Sphere Sovereignty,’ 488.

9 For a more detailed summary of the three foregoing positions, see
Ossewaarde, M. ‘Settling the ‘Social Question’: Three Variants of Modern
Christian Social Thought.’ Journal of Markets & Morality 14, No. 2 (2011):
301–317. (This entire issue was a theme issue on modern Christian social
thought and contains many insightful articles from both the Roman Cath-
olic and Reformed perspectives.) In examining the three positions out-
lined here in the nineteenth century Netherlands, Ossewaarde refers to
the statist school of thought as the ‘sovereignty’ tradition. I have altered
his terminology here since I know of no one who would explicitly identify
as such today. This tradition is nevertheless longstanding and at one time
was just as academic as the others. According to Ossewaarde, an example
of one prominent thinker in this tradition would be Thomas Hobbes who
taught that the king is a ‘mortal god’ whose will is law and who is subject
to God alone. See Hobbes, T. Leviathan. Ed. Plamenatz, J. (New York:
Meridian Books, 1963), 176, cited in Ossewaarde. ‘Settling the Social
Question,’ 303 and 315n5.
160 DYLAN PAHMAN
answer to the question, ‘What makes a society?’ and ultimately fun-

damental to Christian approaches to social challenges in general.
ASCETICISM AS A SOCIETAL PRINCIPLE: ASCETICISM IN

THE ORTHODOX TRADITION
But what is asceticism? ‘True asceticism,’ writes Fr. Georges Flo-
rovsky, ‘is inspired not by contempt, but by the urge of transfor-
mation.’ 10 Indeed, even hermits do not hate the world or view
themselves as wholly disconnected from it: ‘Asceticism, as a rule,
does not require detachment from the Cosmos.’ 11 Rather, it is
means of transforming the world, whether one lives in the world or
the desert. Indeed, for Orthodox Christians, everyone is called to
asceticism to a greater or lesser degree. ‘Ascetical virtues can be
practiced by laymen also, and by those who stay in the world,’
writes Florovsky. 12 They not only can, but are, as has always been
the case from the very beginning of the Church, long before the
rise of Christian monasticism, in fact. 13
10 Florovsky, G. ‘Christianity and Civilization.’ In Christianity and Cul-

ture. The Collected Works of Georges Florovsky, vol. 2. (Belmont, MA:
Nordland, 1974), 128.
11 Florovsky. ‘Christianity and Civilization,’ 125.
12 Florovsky. ‘Christianity and Civilization,’ 126.
13 In addition to the common coupling of prayer and fasting in the
New Testament (cf. Matthew 17:21; Mark 9:29; Luke 2:37; Acts 13:3,
14:23), it is sufficient to note that the Didache recommends fasting on
Wednesdays and Fridays (Didache 8.1–2. In trans. Richardson, C.C. Early
Christian Fathers. Philadelphia PA: Westminster Press, 1953, 174), a prac-
tice still observed by Orthodox Christians today, and that the practice of
observing a period of fasting before Pascha (Easter) can be documented
from, at least, the time of St. Irenaeus (see Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History
5.24.11–18. NPNF2 1:243–4). See also the elaborate metaphor of the rela-
tionship between the body and soul in the Epistle to Diognetus 6 (ANF
1:27). If this is not enough, one needs only to consult the work of Tilley
on the crucial role asceticism played in the endurance of the earliest mar-
tyrs and Satlow on the presence of asceticism in Judaism of the same time
period to see from the former that asceticism was not only present in the
early Church, but essential, and from the latter that it was not only Hellen-
Christian asceticism is characterized by the three basic spiritu-

al disciplines of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, as well as labor,
simplicity, obedience, and sexual restraint, among others, all for the
transformative purpose of cultivating purity of heart and true, sac-
rificial love. According to St. Moses the Ethiopian, the disciplines
‘are to be rungs of a ladder up which [the heart] may climb to per-
fect charity [i.e., love].’ 14 Similarly, St. Maximos the Confessor
writes, ‘Once you control the passions you will accept affliction
patiently, and through such acceptance you will acquire hope in
God. Hope in God separates the intellect from every worldly at-
tachment, and when the intellect is detached in this way it will ac-
quire love for God.’ 15 Asceticism, of course, is the primary means
by which people learn to ‘control the passions,’ attaining the neces-
sary self-control, patience, and hope for true agape or charity, the
highest form of love. 16 More to the point of this paper, the same
istic (as if that would be a bad thing), but thoroughly Jewish as well. See
Tilley, M.A. ‘The Ascetic Body and the (Un)Making of the World of the
Martyr.’ Journal of the American Academy of Religion 59, no. 3. (1991): 467–79
and Satlow, M.L. ‘‘And on the Earth You Shall Sleep’: ‘Talmud Torah’
and Rabbinic Asceticism.’ The Journal of Religion 83, no. 2. (2003): 204–25.
14 Cassian, J. Conferences 1.7. In ed. Chadwick, O. Western Asceticism.
(Westminster: John Knox Press, 1979), 198.

15 Maximos the Confessor, Four Hundred Texts on Love 1.3. In Ni-
kodimos of the Holy Mountain and Makarios of Corinth. The Philokalia.

Vol. 2. Trans. and ed. by Palmer, G.E.H., Sherrard, P., and Ware, K.
(London: Faber and Faber, 1981), 53.
16 Similarly, Vladimir Solovyov insists that true asceticism is insepa-
rable from true piety and altruism. See Solovyov, V.S. The Justification of the
Good. Rev. ed. Trans. Nathalie A. Duddington. Ed. Boris Jakim. (Grand
Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005), 51–2: ‘Asceticism in itself is not necessarily
a good, and cannot therefore be the supreme or the absolute principle of
morality. The true (the moral) ascetic acquires control over the flesh, not
simply for the sake of increasing the powers of the spirit, but for further-
ing the realisation of the Good. Asceticism which liberates the spirit from
shameful (carnal) passions only to attach it more closely to evil (spiritual)
passions is obviously a false and immoral asceticism. Its true prototype,
according to the Christian ideal, is the devil, who does not eat or drink
162 DYLAN PAHMAN
would also apply to philanthropia, which Vicki Petrakis identifies as

‘the fruit of the meeting between human volition in askesis and di-
vine grace in theosis’ for St. Gregory the Theologian, 17 and which Fr.
John McGuckin describes as ‘the very root and core of all that is
meant by civilized values’ in Greek thought. 18
The fundamental nature of true asceticism is reflected, I be-
lieve, first of all in the Scriptures. For example, according to St.
Basil the Great, the command not to eat from the tree in the Gar-
den (Genesis 2:16–17) was actually a fast (‘do not eat’), and human-
ity’s relationship with God, each other, and the world was distorted
by abandoning this ascetic mandate. 19 Indeed, the command to ‘fill
the earth and subdue it’ (Genesis 1:28) even takes on an ascetic
meaning so long as one accounts for the fact that Adam’s body was
itself made from the dust of the earth, only becoming ‘a living soul’
by the breath of God (Genesis 2:7). ‘[E]very one will allow,’ writes
St. Irenaeus of Lyon, ‘that we are [composed of] a body taken from
the earth, and a soul receiving spirit from God.’ 20 As earth, the
and remains in celibacy. If, then, from the moral point of view we cannot
approve of a wicked or pitiless ascetic, it follows that the principle of as-
ceticism has only a relative moral significance, namely, that it is conditioned
by its connection with the principle of altruism, the root of which is pity.’
Simons interprets this connection in the context of Solovyov’s thought on
war and the natural reverence due to one’s ancestors. See Simons, A. ‘In
the Name of the Spirits: A Reading of Solov’ëv’s ‘Justification of the
Good.’’ Studies in East European Thought 51, no. 3. (1999): 189–90.
17 Petrakis, V. ‘Philanthropia as a Social Reality of Askesis and Theosis in
Gregory the Theologian’s Oration: On the Love of the Poor.’ In ed. Pereira,
M.J. Philanthropy and Social Compassion in Eastern Orthodox Tradition. The
Sophia Institute: Studies in Orthodox Theology. Vol. 2. (New York, NY:
Theotokos Press – The Sophia Institute, 2010), 91.
18 McGuckin, J. ‘Embodying the New Society: The Byzantine Chris-
tian Instinct of Philanthropy.’ In Philanthropy and Social Compassion, 54.

19 See Basil of Caesarea. About Fasting 1.3. This can be found in
Greek and English with translation by Burghuis, K. at:

http://bible.org/seriespage/appendix-1–basil%E2%80%99s-sermons-
about-fasting. Accessed September 11, 2012.
20 Irenaeus of Lyons. Against Heresies 3.22.1. ANF 1:454.
body must therefore be ascetically cultivated and subdued as well.

Biblically, asceticism is a matter of our creational design, even pre-
sent in the paradisiacal state. Our fallen condition makes this more
difficult but does not change the mandate: ‘to till the ground’
(compare Genesis 2:5b to 3:23), only now ‘in the sweat of your
face’ (Genesis 3:19) and among ‘thorns and thistles’ (Genesis 3:18).
ASCETICISM IN MARRIAGE
In The Justification of the Good, the Russian Orthodox philosopher
Vladimir Solovyov writes, ‘True asceticism … has two forms – mo-
nasticism and marriage.’ 21 Marriage, of course, is the most basic socie-
tal institution, ideally at the heart of the family, the most basic and
natural societal group. If marriage is truly a form of asceticism,
then society itself must be ascetic in its roots.
But how is marriage ascetic? St. Paul, first of all, defines mar-
riage as a relationship of mutual submission (Ephesians 5:21–33) in
which one’s body is not one’s own (1 Corinthians 7:4). Similarly,
Solovyov notes that the bond of marriage actually limits and trans-
forms sexual desire, writing,
21 Solovyov, Justification of the Good, 356. I would add that, certainly,

single people who live ‘in the world’ also have an ascetic calling. Given
that Solovyov was unmarried, I suspect he would agree. Furthermore, the
work of Sorabji is worth noting here, in which he details several fathers of
the Church who, while acknowledging apatheia or dispassion as the ulti-
mate ascetic ideal, commended metriopatheia or the moderation of the pas-
sions to those in the world. See Sorabji, R. Emotion and Peace of Mind: From
Stoic Agitation to Christian Temptation. (New York: Oxford University Press,
2000), 285–99. In this paper I am concerned with Solovyov’s late thought
as reflected in The Justification of the Good. His thought evolved over the
course of his life, and I make no attempt to harmonize his later work with
his earlier work here. For a brief summary of sex and marriage in Solo-
vyov’s work more generally, see Polyakov, L.V. ‘Women’s Emancipation
and the Theology of Sex in Nineteenth-Century Russia.’ Philosophy East
and West 42, no. 2. Moscow Regional East-West Philosophers’ Conference
on Feminist Issues East and West. (1992): 306–307.
164 DYLAN PAHMAN
Marriage remains the satisfaction of the sexual want, which,

however, no longer refers to the external nature of the animal
organism, but to the nature that is human and is awaiting to
become divine. A tremendous problem arises which can only be
solved by constant renunciation … From this point of view the
fullness of life-satisfaction which includes bodily senses is con-
nected not with the preceding lust but with the subsequent joy
of realized perfection. 22
To paraphrase, for Solovyov the only way in which sexual desire is
truly human and moral, rather than being animal and amoral, is
through self-renunciation. Human beings voluntarily deny their
sexual desire when they limit it to marriage and when, in marriage,
sex becomes primarily a service to the other for their own moral
development rather than to one’s self, eventually even becoming
unnecessary. 23 In this way, it serves as a means of moral perfection
and underscores the essentially ascetic nature of the Christian con-
ception of marriage in this regard. Furthermore, it is my contention
22 Solovyov, Justification of the Good, 357–8.

23 For Solovyov in a perfect marriage ‘reproduction [and therefore
sex] becomes unnecessary and impossible’ (Justification of the Good, 358).
This view is not unique to Solovyov. For example, St. John of Kronstadt
and his wife lived together in celibacy, and St. Gregory the Theologian
says that his parents’ marriage in the end was ‘a union of virtue rather
than of bodies.’ See Kizenko, N. ‘Ioann of Kronstadt and the Reception
of Sanctity, 1850–1988.’ Russian Review 57, no. 3. (1998): 328 and Gregory
of Nazianzus, Oration 18: On the Death of His Father 7. NPNF2 7:256. It
seems, then, that asceticism is a normative part, and even a goal, of ro-
mantic love and marriage for Solovyov and that this is not unique to him.
Kornblatt argues that Solovyov preferred an understanding of Eros as
leading one ‘on the path toward the image and likeness of God’ to and at
the ultimate exclusion of asceticism, but it would seem that her characteri-
zation of Solovyov’s erotic philosophy does not agree with his later work
with which I am here exclusively concerned. In the Justification of the Good,
Solovyov argues that asceticism is one of three essential moral duties, the
other two being piety and altruism. See Kornblatt, J.D. ‘The Transfigura-
tion of Plato in the Erotic Philosophy of Vladimir Solov’ev.’ Religion &
Literature 24, no. 2. (1992): 43.
that no society (including, of course, marriage and the family), ex-

ists or finds its fulfillment apart from the self-limitation of its
members (not only sexually, but also spatially, temporally, emotion-
ally, often even dietetically) – even if only to a small extent – by
which they are transformed into a community. Asceticism, then, is
essential to human society. 24
ASCETICISM IN THE FAMILY

Indeed, this principle is not merely an abstract ideal but also the
fact of the matter. There simply is no society in which each person
only and always follows the desires of the flesh; such a distortion of
society has no existence of itself and cannot exist in an absolute
form. It would be the utter negation of society. As Solovyov ar-
gues, ‘[T]he indefinite multiplication of external and particular
wants, and the recognition of the external means of satisfying them
as ends in themselves – is the principle of disorganization, of social
decomposition, while the principle of moral philosophy [i.e. asceti-
cism]… is the principle of organization….’ 25 The closer a society
approximates the former, the more dysfunctional it will be. By con-
trast, the more a society is ascetic (as defined above), the healthier
it will be.
For example, we can confirm this by reflecting on the every-
day habitus of the family. Do we not call dysfunctional a family in
which the children are allowed to eat ice cream for breakfast, where
the family spends no intentional time together, and disobedience is
never disciplined? Do we not rightly call out a deadbeat parent who
24 See Archimandrite Sophrony, ‘Principles of Orthodox Asceticism,’

259.
Solovyov, Justification of the Good, 400. It is clear from the following
25
paragraph that Solovyov has asceticism in mind here. He is specifically

speaking of the economic sphere of life, conceived broadly, but it would
not be out of place to apply this insight elsewhere since asceticism is one
of three basic moral duties to Solovyov, the other two being piety and
altruism, as I have already noted. Piety and altruism may be the primary
moral duties of the Church and the state, respectively, but that does not
mean that any can function in a manner contrary to asceticism, correctly
understood.
166 DYLAN PAHMAN
abandons his/her children, refusing to sacrifice in order to provide

for them, instead pursuing a selfish existence? Healthy families, on
the other hand, eat meals together according to their own estab-
lished dietary limitations (‘eat your vegetables, then you can have
dessert,’ for example); they share time and space with one another;
the parents sacrifice their time and desires in order to work to pro-
vide for the children; the children are required to do chores to con-
tribute to the household; and so on. Society simply does not ‘work’
apart from ascetic self-renunciation.
True, such asceticism may be quite light by most standards
and not the perfect embodiment of the ideal, but the basic princi-
ple must, nonetheless, be present. From the simple asceticism of
the average family to the monasteries of Mount Athos, through
denying oneself – especially one’s material comforts – for a greater
good, a collection of mere individuals is transformed into a com-
munity. Not everyone may be called to monasticism, but no one
exists apart from the family, where the basic principles of true as-
ceticism are (or at least ought to be) first practiced and modeled.
As The Basis of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church states,
The experience of family relations teaches a person to over-
come sinful egoism and lays the foundations for his [or her]
sense of civil duty. It is in the family as a school of devotion
that the right attitude to one’s neighbours and therefore to
one’s people and society as a whole is formed. 26
From the family come all other forms of society, and the family
does not function properly apart from asceticism. And when each
community and sector of society embraces this ascetic standpoint,
they necessarily respect the autonomy of others through their own
self-renunciation while being transformed into what they them-
selves are truly meant to be.
26 Department for External Church Relations. The Basis of the Social

Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church. Moscow Patriarchate. Moscow, Rus-
sia. 2000, 10.6. Accessed September 11, 2012.
http://www.mospat.ru/en/documents/social-concepts/.
CONCLUSION
So what makes a society? As unlikely as it may sound at first blush,
I contend that the Orthodox answer is asceticism and that this an-
swer need not be limited to the Orthodox tradition but reflects a
fundamental reality of society as everyone, in fact, experiences it.
As such, this Orthodox perspective therefore constitutes a vital
contribution to Christian social thought as a whole and one that
deserves to be explored in greater detail and to be further em-
ployed in future Christian societal engagement. It is an answer, I
believe, that speaks directly to the sentiment of the eighteenth cen-
tury, Irish statesman and political philosopher Edmund Burke:
Society cannot exist, unless a controlling power upon will and
appetite be placed somewhere; and the less of it there is within,
the more there must be without. It is ordained in the eternal
constitution of things, that men of intemperate minds cannot
be free. Their passions forge their fetters. 27
Asceticism is the means by which people put inner restraint ‘upon
will and appetite,’ apart from which they ‘cannot be free’ and
‘[s]ociety cannot exist.’ And indeed, if, according to Archimandrate
Sophrony, ‘[a]sceticism, understood as spiritual labour, constitutes
an inseparable part of the histories of all known religions and civili-
zations, even of civilizations with no religious basis,’ 28 then asceti-
cism as a core societal principle holds great potential for thoughtful
public discourse as well.
27 Burke, E. Letter to a Member of the National Assembly, in Answer to

Some Objections to His Book on French Affairs in The Works of the Right Honour-
able Edmund Burke. Vol. 4. (London: John C. Nimmo, 1887), 52.
28 Archimandrite Sophrony. ‘Principles of Orthodox Asceticism,’
259. Furthermore, Bulgakov documents the historical role of asceticism

and monasticism in the founding and economic development of many
cities in the Christian world, both East and West. See Bulgakov, S. ‘The
National Economy and the Religious Personality (1909).’ Trans. Stanchev,
K. Journal of Markets & Morality 11, no. 1. (2008): esp. 162–5.
ANNA KOMNENE’S ALEXIAD:
(KALE T H UGATER ) 1
LEGACY FROM THE GOOD DAUGHTER
V.K. MCCARTY
I wish to recall everything, the achievements before his elevation

to the throne and his actions in the service of others. 2
In exploring aspects of the Orthodox experience of family life, we
are able to bring to the table a family from the threshold of twelfth-
century Constantinople and see a Byzantine emperor and empress
viewed by their imperial daughter – in the epic narrative of the
Alexiad. It is the ‘chief basis of our knowledge of the important
period which saw the restoration of Byzantine power and the meet-
ing of Byzantium with the West in the First Crusade.’ 3 While this
work has been examined from the standpoint of social context and
genre, it can also be viewed as reflecting one daughter’s love, even
within the moral complexity of this particular Orthodox family as it
is played out on the stage of Byzantine historiography. The eldest
1 This essay is dedicated to Dr. Charles O. Long, MD, the author’s

father, on the occasion of his ninetieth birthday.
2 A. Comnena. The Alexiad of Anna Comnena. E Sewter. (trans). (Lon-
don: Penguin Books, 1969), Prologue. p. 17. Referenced hereafter by

book, chapter, and page number. Transliterated spellings from the Greek
conform in general to The Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium, for the sake of
uniformity.
3 G. Ostrogorsky. History of the Byzantine State. (New Brunswick, NJ:
Rutgers University Press, 1969), p. 351.
169
170 V.K. MCCARTY
daughter of Emperor Alexios I Komnenos (1057–1118, ruled

1081–1118 CE) and Irene Doukaina (1066–1023, or 1033), Anna
Komnene (1083–1153 or 54) is representative of a period in Byzan-
tine history when the power of great aristocratic families became
amplified and inter-connected by strategic marriage alliances. Alex-
ios was the first of the Komnenian Byzantine emperors and Irene’s
family was known to trace its lineage back to Constantine the
Great. 4
Anna Komnene narrates in rich detail the life-panorama of
her father in her opus magnus which Dolger has called a ‘work of
filial piety … set out to extol the virtues of her father whom she
adored and admired above all others.’ 5 Deemed a ‘learned work
without parallel in the canon of women’s writing in Attic history,’ 6
the Alexiad is the only text by a woman in the whole of the Corpus
Scriptorum Historiae Byzantinae. 7 Whatever may be said by the au-
thor’s critics, 8 the Alexiad leaves a singular contribution to Byzan-
tine history.’ She is one of a small group of medieval women who
have not been muted.’ 9 With the anniversary of her birth 929 years
4 There was a tradition that he had appointed their forbear the Duke
of Constantinople, hence the family name Dukas.
5 F Dölger. ‘Byzantine Literature.’ in Cambridge Medieval History. v. 4.
The Byzantine Empire. J Hussey. (ed). (Cambridge: Cambridge University

Press, 1966–1967), p. 231.
6 E Quandahl and S Jarratt. ‘To Recall Him … Will be a Subject of
Lamentation: Anna Comnena as Rhetorical Historiographer.’ Rhetorica: A

Journal of the History of Rhetoric. 26:3. (2008): p. 303.
7 B Hill. Imperial Women in Byzantium 1025–1204: Power, Patronage and
Ideology. (New York, NY: Longman, 1999), p. 34.

8 ‘The laudatory tendencies in the Alexaid and certain other short-
comings, particularly its confused chronology, are more than balanced by

the comprehensive mine of information which the authoress was able to
provide, due partly to the special faculties afforded by her high position
and partly to her own thirst for knowledge.’ Ostrogorsky. History of the
Byzantine State. p. 351.
9 T Gouma-Petersen. ‘Gender and Power: Passages to the Maternal
in Anna Komnene’s Alexiad.’ in Anna Komnene and Her Times. T Gouma-

Petersen. (ed). (New York, NY: Garland, 2000), p. 110.
ANNA KOMNENE’S ALEXIAD 171
ago, it is interesting to note that Anna Komnene has become more

visible in popular culture; she even finds a place among the names
inscribed on the porcelain ‘Heritage Floor’ of Judy Chicago’s art
piece, ‘The Dinner Party,’ installed at the Brooklyn Museum. 10
While some interpretations of Anna Komnene as a complaining
depressive bewailing her fate are understandable considering the
text, the Alexiad and its commentators are examined here for evi-
dence of the author as a faithful daughter expressing loyalty to both
of her parents and carrying on scholarly work with the gifts given
to her by them and ‘what God has apportioned to me from above.’
[Prologue; 17] This study looks at Anna Komnene through the lens
of filial devotion and asks to what extent the Alexiad can be viewed
as demonstrating the topos of the good daughter (kale thugater) of
Alexios I Komnenos.
As daughter and granddaughter, as wife and sister, Anna
Komnene’s views of her familial ties are the warp and woof of the
fabric of the Alexiad; her editorial choices for devoted emphasis
and intentional critical omission make up the threads and coloring
of its tapestry. From the first, she stresses her royal birth, introduc-
ing herself with the defining fact of having emerged from the cra-
dle as a true porphyrogenita imperial child ‘born in the purple,’ 11 [Pro-
logue; 17] ‘resembling her father,’ [VI.viii; 196] two years after he
ascended the Byzantine throne. While still quite young, Anna was
betrothed to Constantine, the son of Emperor Michael VII Doukas
(c.1050–1078, ruled 1071–1078), in a bid by Alexios I to secure an
heir for the Byzantine throne. She was sent off for several years to
be brought up within the household of Maria of Alania (ca.1050–
ca.1103); and for a time, Anna and her betrothed were named to-
gether with the Emperor and the Empress in the official acclama-
tions at court ceremonies. 12 Anna describes this as a happy period
of her life, looking up at an impressionable age to the celebrated
10 Anna Komnene also appeared as a character in the novel Count

Robert of Paris by Sir Walter Scott in 1832.
11 She was designated as porphyrogenita because she was delivered in
the royal birthing room in the palace, a chamber lined with semi-precious
purple porphyry stone.
12 See Ostrogorsky. History of the Byzantine State. p. 376.
172 V.K. MCCARTY
beauty of her intended mother-in-law and rhapsodizing about her

captivating fiancé. Empress Maria was the maternal figure present
in her life on the cusp of young womanhood, 13 with Anna treasur-
ing that the dowager empress ‘shared all her secrets with me.’ [III.i;
105] Later, when a son, John (1087–1143, ruled 1118–1143), was
born to Alexios and Irene, this arrangement proved unnecessary
and Anna’s bright future, at least as an empress, was eclipsed by
her infant brother. Expectations of imperial power, however, were
indelibly imprinted on her point of view for the rest of her life.
The likeliness of her father’s dynastic strategy playing out was
eradicated by the birth of her brother and the untimely death of her
young fiancé. While still a teenager, Anna was then married off to
Nikephoros Bryennios (1062–ca. 1136–37), a military comrade of
her father. 14 Anna Komnene witnessed a generation of imperial
Byzantine history when women’s powerful roles at court had been
amply evident. So, she could hardly have shared his unalloyed joy
when in 1092 her imperial father crowned her little brother caesar
and celebrated by issuing new coinage containing an ‘almost pure
gold coin, the hyperpyron.’ 15 Indeed, she has been implicated by
many as conspiring with her mother in a bid for the throne after
her father died which involved a plot to murder her brother. While
her silence about the accomplishments of Emperor John II Kom-
nenos indicates she battled resentment for her brother and his
reign, Anna remains adamant in her devotion to her father, faithful
to him throughout his lifetime, and present with him in his last
hours.
13 Maria of Alania had caught the eye of Anna’s father as well: Alex-
ios Komnenos was ‘so passionately attached to this beautiful and clever
woman that he was ready to sacrifice his own wife Irene for her; he was
only saved from this false step, which might have had grave political con-
sequences, by the energetic protests of Patriarch Cosmas who insisted on
the crowning of Irene.’ Ostrogorsky. History of the Byzantine State. p. 376.
14 He was also, it should be noted, a rival emperor during the reigns
of both Alexios’ predecessors on the throne, Michael VII Doukas and

Nikephoros III Botaneiates (1002–1081; ruled 1078–1081).
15 W Treadgold. A History of the Byzantine State and Society. (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 1997), p. 618.

Later, in keeping with the close bond to her father, Anna

Komnene wrote admiringly in turn about her husband. [I.v; 40]
Notwithstanding her fury that Nikephoros Bryennios would not
assist Empress Irene in the assassination plot to wrestle the throne
from her brother and assume it himself, she appears on balance to
have been happy in her marriage. Nevertheless, when in 1119 the
young emperor obtained proof of a conspiracy, he temporarily
confiscated their property, and forced both Irene and Anna to re-
tire to a convent, while Bryennius himself remained free. ‘John, like
his father, was alert to his enemies, but merciful to them.’ 16 After
the death of her mother in 1123 and her husband in 1137, Anna
Komnene focused on crafting a grand epic honoring her father’s
memory, often writing so long into the day that it was ‘time to light
the lamps.’ [XIII.vi; 411] In reflecting on how Anna Komnene ad-
dressed resolving the difficult case of conscience with her probable
guilt in the conspiracy to dethrone John, one wonders whether,
during her long years in enforced monasticism with its penitential
components, she came to terms before God with her rancor to-
ward her brother.
One of the ways Anna Komnene authenticates herself as a
historian is by demonstrating her qualifications as an intellectual
figure ‘on a par with any man,’ 17 one who ‘preferred philosophy,
the medicine of the soul, to that of the body.’ 18 She makes good
use of the matchless education of a porphyrogenita princess. 19 Her
scholarly pursuits reflect one of the more admirable arenas in
16 M Angold. Church and Society in Byzantium under the Comneni 1081–

1261. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 629.
17 P Hatlie. ‘Images of Motherhood and Self in Byzantine Literature.’
Dumbarton Oaks Papers v. 63. (2003): p. 51.

18 G Tornikios quoted in R Browning. ‘An Unpublished Funeral
Oration on Anna Comnene.’ in Aristotle Transformed: The Ancient Commenta-

tors and Their Influence. Richard Sorabji. (ed). (Ithaca, NY: Cornell Universi-
ty Press, 1990), p. 430.
19 Classical education was often described as achievement in a quar-
tet of subject categories favored at the time – Geometry, Arithmetic, As-

tronomy, Music – which were referred to as ‘the Quadrivium of sciences.’
[Prologue; 17].
174 V.K. MCCARTY
which Anna took after her mother, who cleverly persuaded her of
the wisdom of the Fathers. 20 Empress Irene was often found at
table ‘diligently reading the dogmatic pronouncements of the Holy
Fathers’ [V.ix; 178], and was said to have written the Typikon for
the convent she founded, the Mother of God Kecharitomene. 21
Even with the evidence of their gruesome intentions hanging in the
balance, Anna Komnene crafted the Alexiad to complete a project
inaugurated by her mother; Irene Doukaina had commissioned
Anna’s husband to write an historical account of the deeds of Alex-
ios after his death. What survives of this effort is the essay ‘Materi-
als for a History.’ 22
Anna Komnene composed her own fifteen-volume work dur-
ing the reign of Manual I, the next emperor after John. Although in
all probability she intentionally offered a version of history which
passed over her brother’s reign in critical silence, John II Komne-
nos has in fact been regarded by some as the greatest of the Kom-
nenian emperors. 23 Written in retrospect, the Alexiad looks back on
memories of her father’s life culled from war stories of the emper-
or’s retired comrades-in-arms [XIV.vii; 460], Anna’s own eyewit-
ness memories, 24 and conversations between the emperor and his
20 Anna Komnene records her mother teaching her, ‘I myself do not

approach such books without a tremble. Yet I cannot tear myself away
from them. Wait a little and after a close look at other books, believe me,
you will taste the sweetness of these.’ Book V.ix; 178–179.
21 See ‘Kecharitomene: Typikon of Empress Irene Doukaina Komnene
for the Convent of the Mother of God Kecharitomene in Constantinople.’ in
Founders’ Typika and Testaments. J Thomas and A C Hero. (eds). R Allison

Byzantine Monastic Foundation Documents: A Complete Translation of the Surviving
et al. (trans). Commentary by J Thomas. (Washington, DC: Dumbarton

Oaks Research Library and Collection, 2000), pp. 649–726.
22 N Bryennios. ‘Materials for a History.’ H Gregoire. (trans.) Byzan-
tion v. 23. (1953): pp. 469–530. vv. 25–27. 1955–57. pp. 881–925.
23 See J Birkenmeier. The Development of the Komnenian Army: 1081–
1180. (Leiden: Brill, 2002), p. 85.

24 ‘She listened attentively to those who gave displays of their wis-
dom every day before her father the Emperor and was roused to emula-
military commander, George Palaiologos, while his niece was pre-

sent at court. 25 Additionally, the Alexiad provides the only known
complete Byzantine historical account of the First Crusade, and ‘no
study of that enterprise is complete without an analysis of the in-
formation she supplies.’ 26 It is perhaps a high compliment that An-
na Komnene’s history is consulted as often as it is, and that her
strategic military accounts are comprehensive enough that her au-
thorship as a woman has even been doubted. 27
Writing in the first-person was emerging noticeably in the
eleventh and twelfth centuries, and Anna includes descriptions of
her own formation and accomplishments in the Alexiad; the loyal
daughter is unapologetically present as part of her father’s story.
Another example of this trend is Michael Psellus (1018–1078), who
knit his own character into The Chronographia 28 and, like Anna, in-
cluded his education and achievements, personally intervening in
his account to heighten the drama of events by emotionally re-
sponding to them. 29 So, as a faithful daughter who is present in her
own work, Anna Komnene was a child of her time. When com-
tion by them.’ Tornikios quoted in Browning, ‘An Unpublished Funeral

Oration.’ p. 405.
25 ‘From all these materials the whole fabric of my history – my true
history – has been woven.’ Book XIV.vii; 461.

26 P Stephenson, ‘Anna Comnene’s Alexiad as a Source for the Sec-
ond Crusade?’ Journal for Medieval History v. 29. (2003): p. 41.

27 ‘Howard-Johnston’s idea that detailed and lively battle narratives
cannot have been written by a woman and must therefore derive from
lost Breyennios dossiers rather than having been written by Anna Kom-
nene has fortunately not found many adherents.’ D.C. Smythe. ‘Middle
Byzantine Family Values and Anna Komnene’s Alexiad.’ in Byzantine
Women: Varieties of Experience 800–1200. L Garland. (ed). (Aldershot: Ash-
gate, 2006), p. 130. For James Howard-Johnson’s evaluation of Anna
Komnene’s authorial integrity, see ‘Anna Komnene and the Alexiad.’ in
Alexios I Komnenos: Papers. M Mullett and D Smythe. (eds). (Belfast: Belfast
Byzantine Texts and Translations, 1996).
28 See M Psellus. The Chronographia. E Sewter. (trans). (London:
Routledge & K Paul, 1953).

29 See Quandahl and Jarratt. ‘To Recall Him.’ p. 317.
176 V.K. MCCARTY
pared with the terminology and language of the histories of Mi-

chael Psellos or Niketas Choniates, Anna speaks ‘not as a woman
in an écriture feminine, but in the same full-blown atticising form of
Greek favoured by the dominant élite of eleventh- and twelfth-
century Byzantium.’ 30 The Alexiad is often criticized, but it is more
often referenced as a source of history and provides a unique win-
dow into the imperial epicenter of Komnenian Byzantium. Alexios
I, ‘that master of strategy,’ [I.vii; 48] and his family are viewed at
work and at prayer, receiving friend and foe at court, and strategiz-
ing Byzantine survival in precarious times.
Although the title suggests an heroic prose epic praising the
life and exploits of Alexios I Komnenos, the Alexiad presents ‘no
stock panegyric’ of the father Anna loved, but rather expounds
virtues he actually possessed and ‘dramatizes events that were in
fact dramatic.’ 31 Emperor Alexios inherited an empire in financial
shambles and a disintegrating imperial frontier with daunting foes
pressing in on all sides. While still a young general, he proved him-
self to be a successful and politically savvy warrior; yet after early
military successes, Alexios mounted several campaigns only to be
repeatedly vanquished. Therefore, in his rise toward the Byzantine
throne, he came to rely on the powerful relatives of, first, his
mother, Anna Dalassene; then of his adoptive mother, Maria of
Alania; 32 and his wife, Irene Doukaina. Since Alexios was often
away on military campaigns more comprehensively narrated by
other Byzantine historians, Anna may at times have seldom seen
her father; but when she did, her memories were vivid and detailed.
Although the emperor and his family ‘did much to promote
the new wave of monastic piety,’ as founders and re-founders of
30 D.C. Smythe. ‘Women as Outsiders,’ in Women, Men and Eunuchs. L

James. (ed). (London: Rutledge, 1997), p. 156.
31 Treadgold. A History of the Byzantine State. p. 693.
32 Since Maria of Alania was only about seven years older than Ire-
ne’s son, this double-team mothering of Alexios for the sake of dynastic
strategy created a dove-tailing of the generations which was unusual, to
say the least.
monasteries and convents, 33 Alexios was often on bad terms with

the Church. Hardly a paragon of wholesomeness, considering his
dynastic machinations, he was condemned by Patriarch Cosmas as
deserving of public penitential rebuke. Through Anna’s eyes, Alex-
ios is seen seeking the counsel of the Patriarch on the advice of his
mother, and asking repentance for allowing his supporters to sack
Constantinople during the course of his coup to overtake the
throne. 34 He and the members of his family were forced to submit
to penances prescribed by the Patriarch. Anna Komnene’s descrip-
tion of the joy with which they each acquitted their allotted share
does not quite disguise the humiliation it was. [III.vi; 115] In fact,
eventually Alexios retaliated by forcing Patriarch Cosmas to re-
sign. 35
In the Alexiad, Anna Komnene consciously positions herself
‘within an august genealogy through her allusions to and imitation
of classical historians,’ 36 demonstrating that her ways of writing and
thinking were formed by the complex educational fabric of Greek
paideia. Thus, the Alexiad was crafted for an audience which could
be assumed to possess a rich knowledge of Homeric influences and
citations. 37 ‘A modern and most noble Hercules’ in Anna’s eyes
[I.x; 52], Alexios and even his enemies, are depicted as sharing in
‘an heroic struggle in the style of Greeks versus Trojans.’ 38 Anna
Komnene’s pen crafting an epic hero who stood tall in a world al-
33 Empress Irene was ‘deeply pious and became the patron of monks
and holy men.’ Angold. Church and Society in Byzantium. p. 45, 69.
34 Additionally, the fact that he confiscated Church treasures to pay
for his military campaigns is evidenced by his chrysobull promising to make

amends and never do it again. Angold. Church and Society in Byzantium. p.
47.
35 See Angold. Church and Society in Byzantium. p. 69.
36 Quandahl and Jarratt. ‘To Recall Him.’ p. 324.
37 ‘Evoking ancient writers, orators, and mythical figures is both a
display of Anna’s erudition and acquaintance with works of antiquity and

a frame for her own writing in a comparable elevated, lively manner.’ C.L.
Connor. Women of Byzantium. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004), p.
246.
38 Connor. Women of Byzantium. p. 247.
178 V.K. MCCARTY
ready populated by heroes of mythic strength and beauty rather

than simply by men and women has been considered a step for-
ward in Byzantine historiography. 39
Even when she was not an eyewitness, she manages to fill the
page with jeweled scenes of the imperial court and graphic images
of the mechanics of warfare [XIII.iii; 402], but also with endearing
true-to-life details and startling episodes she knew first-hand from
the remarkable characters in her family. 40 In her highly visual liter-
ary style, Anna Komnene depicts her father in the midst of it all as
the operational centerpiece: analyzing maneuvers, issuing orders,
and campaigning to retrieve the four corners of his empire. At once
both congenial father figure and warrior-emperor, she describes
him as respected by subjects and foes alike, driving the reins of the
empire. 41
Anna Komnene also looked up to the strong women in her
family and she describes the reins of the empire being driven by
one of them as well. 42 Anna Dalassene is one of three impressive
maternal figures at play in the make-up of Anna Komnene’s family
life. Like many young girls, Anna adored her grandmother and
characterized her as courageous and assertive, the ‘mother of the
Komneni,’ [II.iv; 85] a phrase which Anna Dalassene herself
adopted as a semi-official title during her years in power; a seal sur-
39 See J Ljubarskij. ‘Why is the Alexiad a Masterpiece of Byzantine

Literature?’ in Anna Komnene and her Times. T Gouma-Peterson. (ed). (New
York, NY: Garland Publishing Inc., 2000), p. 175.
40 For example, Anna Dalassene demanding sanctuary in Hagia So-
phia during her son’s coup d’état by clasping the sacred doors at the en-
trance and crying out, ‘Unless my hands are cut off, I will not leave this
holy place, except on one condition: that I receive the Emperor’s cross as
guarantee of safety.’ Book II.v; 85. Another remarkable action-film-
worthy image depicts the warrior-prowess of her father, who suddenly
struck at the enemy; ‘his hand, together with the sword in it, was at once
hurled to the ground.’ Book I.viii; 50.
41 See Connor. Women of Byzantium. p. 248.
42 ‘He yielded her precedence in everything, relinquishing the reins
of government, as it were, and running alongside as she drove the imperial

chariot.’ Book III.vi; 116.
vives inscribed with the phrase. 43 Anna also offers the reader ap-
preciative descriptions of her mother, Irene Doukaina, comparing
her lovely hands to carved ivory. [III.iii; 110–111]
Demonstrating her filial devotion, Anna Komnene recounts a
miraculous occurrence in connection with her birth: since her fa-
ther was away on campaign, Empress Irene is said to have made
the sign of the cross upon her belly, charging her unborn child to
stay the onset of labor until his return. [VI.viii; 196] Anna paints a
picture of the rounds of her pious imperial family life with sched-
uled times for Scripture to be read and Psalms to be offered, where
‘it was natural that men of culture should attend the palace when
the devoted pair (my parents, I mean) were themselves laboring so
hard night and day in searching the Holy Scriptures.’ [V.ix; 178]
Later, after her childbearing years, Empress Irene accompanied her
husband on campaign, 44 and was known for her generosity and
good counsel to the poor. [XII.iii; 377–378] Maria of Alania as well
comes in for admiration and praise in Anna Komnene’s descrip-
tion. 45
Anna Dalassene, Irene Doukaina, and Maria of Alania each
figure significantly in Anna’s family life and that of her father,
Alexios I. All three women ‘deal with the individual crises they face
with courage and vision.’ 46 Both Anna Komnene’s mother and her
grandmother retired to the convents they founded, Irene Doukaina
to the Kecharitomene, and Anna Dalassene to the Pantepoptes.
Anna followed in turn, also retiring to the Kecharitomene convent,
‘where she interacted with educated men who flocked there to
read, write, and recite.’ 47 Of course, it must be remembered that
43 Hill. Imperial Women in Byzantium 1025–1204. p. 117.

44 ‘By night she was the unsleeping eye, by day his most conspicuous
guardian.’ Book XII.iii; 376.
45 Maria of Alania is described as ‘tall, like a cypress tree; her skin
was snow-white … eyebrows flame-colored, arched above eyes of light

blue … a living work of art, an object of desire to lovers of beauty.’ Book
III.ii; 107.
46 B Hill. ‘Anna Komnene.’ in Women and Gender in Medieval Europe.
Schaus. (ed.) (New York, NY: Routledge, 2006), p. 444.

47 Hill. ‘Anna Komnene.’ p. 444.
180 V.K. MCCARTY
only when her mother’s efforts to put Nikephoros Bryennios on

the throne failed did Anna Komnene ‘throw in her hand and seek
consolation in learning,’ 48 and it was in her forced convent retire-
ment ‘overlooking the tranquil waters of the Golden Horn,’ 49 that
she wrote the Alexiad. 50 In the portraits of her grandmother and
her mother, maternal imagery is mobilized to ‘argue for an aristo-
cratic woman’s right of access to both a full intellectual life and real
political power.’ 51 Furthermore, in Anna Komnene’s use of the
theme of parental relationships she reveals and defines herself in a
manner consistent with the mother-son portraits of authors such as
Gregory of Nazianzus, Theodore of Stoudios, and Michael
Psellos. 52
Although in his history of the middle centuries of the Byzan-
tine state 53 written in the next generation after Anna Komnene,
Niketas Choniates blames Empress Irene for inciting Anna’s hus-
band to seize the throne and names Anna as an instigator of the
plot, the historian Zonaras does not in fact represent Anna as in
any way a conspirator against her brother the emperor:
The secondary literature, eliding Zonaras and Choniates, has
frequently constructed a biography in which Anna and her
mother at this time together attempt to wrest the crown from
John. When this plot fails, Anna is exiled to the convent,
where, embittered, she remains for the rest of her life. As we
48 Ostrogorsky. History of the Byzantine State. p. 377.

49 Browning. ‘An Unpublished Funeral Oration.’ p. 401.
50 Also, Browning hypothesizes that, from the Convent of the
Mother of God Kecharitomene, Anna Komnene ‘played a role in the re-

vival of Aristotelian scholarship in the Byzantine world’ with her philo-
sophical circle ‘numbering among its members Michael of Ephesus and
probably Eustratios of Nicaea.’ R Browning. ‘An Unpublished Funeral
Oration on Anna Comnene.’ pp. 400–401.
51 Hatlie. ‘Images of Motherhood and Self in Byzantine Literature.’
p. 51.
52 Hatlie. ‘Images of Motherhood and Self in Byzantine Literature.’
p. 52.
53 See N Choniates. O City of Byzantium: Annals of Niketas Choniatēs. H
J Magoulias. (trans.) (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1984).

will see, generations of scholars have created this story, using

familiar topoi about women’s psychology to craft a picture of
Anna as a woman with a vexed relationship to imperial pow-
er. 54
More recently, in fact, commentators including Browning and Hill
have been more cautionary in their estimation of Anna’s responsi-
bility in plans to overthrow the throne. 55
While frustration over unfulfilled imperial ambition may likely
have spear-headed Anna Komnene’s efforts to favor her father
over her brother in describing her family circumstances, the Alexiad
was nevertheless an unprecedented achievement. Treadgold hails it
as ‘the finest work of historical art since Procopius’ Wars. Anna set
a high standard for the Byzantine historians to come.’ 56 Anna
Komnene commits herself again and again to impartiality; however,
considering her proximity to the events, it may be easy to protest
too much. As a useful historical resource for the First Crusade, it is
problematic that she describes it within the narrow focus of her
father’s point of view, not delving into details of its origin. Judged
as world history, it is plainly found wanting. Yet, although the text
was never explicitly intended as such, the Alexiad remains a signifi-
cant source for the First Crusade from the Byzantine perspective; 57
and with its elaborate web of strategic eyewitness military details, it
may indeed, as he states, have awakened Gibbon’s jealousy. 58
By writing an epic life of her father, Anna Komnene has, on
balance, contributed to the story of Byzantium as we know it. Even
with the bitter disappointment of her relationship with her brother
54 Quandahl and Jarratt, ‘To Recall Him,’ p. 306.

55 Browning. ‘An Unpublished Funeral Oration.’ p. 5; Hill, Imperial
Women in Byzantium 1025–1204, p. 34.
56 Treadgold. A History of the Byzantine State and Society. p. 693.
57 Stephenson. ‘Anna Comnene’s Alexiad as a Source for the Second
Crusade?’ p. 41.
58 ‘The perpetual strain of panegyric and apology awakens our jeal-
ousy to question the veracity of the author.’ E Gibbon. The History of the
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. (New York, NY: Harper & Bros.,
1880), v. 4, p. 619.
182 V.K. MCCARTY
starkly unreconciled, the Alexiad can be considered an act of devo-

tion by the good daughter (kale thugater) and an example of the
complexities of love in action within the Orthodox family. It can
be viewed as an aspect of her role in the family that Anna seems
content with an arranged marriage and presupposes that love and
affection will be found within it; yet she considered herself to be an
imperial Komnene all her life. Her husband, while he appears in
her history, does not fill her life in the way that her father did. 59
Anna retained such an effective dynastic connection with her fami-
ly that her seal bears the name Komnene and not Bryennisa, her
name by marriage. Her own daughter, Irene, preferred to identify
herself through the line of her grandmother, styling her name as
Irene Doukaina, rather than using her father’s name. In fact, none
of her children took their father’s name. 60 In aristocratic families
where women were sometimes quite as powerful as their husbands,
it appears that ‘power, property, and prestige traveled down the
female line.’ 61
The topos of the faithful daughter is also reflected in Anna’s
description of her father’s creation of the orphanage of St. Peter
and St. Paul on the acropolis of Constantinople, thus praising him
for the imperial virtue of philanthropia; 62 its mission was to ‘care for
the needs of the poor and refugees whose presence on the streets
of the capitol contributed to the instability of Constantinopolitan
society.’ 63 Her esteemed regard for her mother is evidenced in An-
na’s intellectual prowess, her pious askesis, and the fact that she
carefully and consistently cites both of her parents when acknowl-
edging her imperial genealogy. [Prologue; 17].
Anna Komnene’s account of the family gathered around the
deathbed of Emperor Alexios includes her own presence there as
59 Hill. Imperial Women in Byzantium 1025–1204. pp. 125–128.

60 Hill. Imperial Women in Byzantium 1025–1204. p. 137.
61 A E Laiou. ‘Women in the History of Byzantium.’ in Byzantine
Women and Their World. I Kalavrezou. (ed.) (Cambridge: Harvard Universi-

ty Art Museums, 2003), p. 29.
62 Book XV.vii; 491.
63 Angold. Church and Society in Byzantium under the Comneni 1081–
1261. p. 69.
his dutiful daughter, compassionately preparing nourishment for

him in his last days and placing herself between her grieving moth-
er and the sight of her father as he was suffering in extremis. In the
text, she clearly identifies her younger brother as the emperor’s
successor, and reports that in imminent anticipation of imperial
accession, he moved ‘to the house set apart for him’ in the Great
Palace. [XV.vi, 512] As death approached, the emperor ‘was slow
to reject his wife’s irresponsible proposal to disinherit his son in
favor of the Caesar Nikephoros Bryennios. According to John
himself, whose word was accepted, Alexios decided for his son just
before dying in August.’ 64
As an eyewitness, Anna Komnene describes in frank medical
detail her dying father’s painful symptoms and in response the lov-
ing ministrations of her sister and mother in grief, as well as her
own, holding her father’s hand to the end. In his funeral oration
for her, Tornikes praises Anna in this moment, ‘who according to
those who say anything was her brother’s rival, although she knew
that her father had just left this world, forgot the imperial title and
joined with her mother in mourning, as they sat alone on the floor
with bared heads.’ 65 Anna Komnene is mute, however, about her
mother’s part and her own in ‘the persistent struggles for the suc-
cession which poisoned the last days and hours of the Emperor
Alexios.’ 66 Nevertheless, the Alexiad can be seen as a unique exam-
ination of several of the relationships within her imperial family.
While she may not have fulfilled her dream of exercising influence
over the empire as empress, Anna Komnene was able to advance
the memory and renown of her beloved father by the crafting of an
epic narrative describing his achievements. Thus, as the pious
daughter of Emperor Alexios I Komnenos, she has left an endur-
ing legacy in Byzantine history.
64 Angold. Church and Society in Byzantium under the Comneni 1081–

1261. p. 628.
65 Georges Tornikios quoted in Browning. ‘An Unpublished Funeral
Oration on Anna Comnene.’ p. 404.

66 Ostrogorsky. History of the Byzantine State. p. 376.
‘SET YE IN ORDER CHARITY IN ME’:
ORIGEN’S WRITINGS ON THE SONG OF
SONGS
CLIO PAVLANTOS
This study will take four passages from Origen’s Commentary and
Homilies on the Song of Songs, in order to trace Origen’s under-
standing of love and its role in the ascent of the soul to God. It will
also look at his writing on the secondary themes of the ordering of
human love and marriage within the corpus. Applying K. J. Tor-
jesen’s system for reading Origen, the study notes Origen’s repeat-
ing exegetical cycle within the passages. The varied levels of mean-
ing within texts are noted, moving from Origen’s direct explica-
tions to his allegorical reading; and Origen’s teachings to the indi-
vidual reader, concerned with preparing the heart to receive Christ,
are highlighted. The first passage under consideration is taken from
the Prologue to the Commentary On the Song, and examines the
nature of love. Origen writes partly in reply to Plato’s Symposium.
The second passage, from the Commentary, traces God’s love for
the preexistent church through scriptural history. The third text
under consideration, also from the Commentary, addresses the
problem of human love; and the fourth, from Origen’s second
Homily on the Song of Songs, is studied as an example of the rhe-
torical treatment of the problem of human love. The study in gen-
eral serves as an introduction to Origen’s method of reading and
analyzing a text, as well as setting out Origen’s theologoumena on the
love of God and the response of humanity to God’s love.
ON THE LOVE OF GOD

The love of God is the theme of the second passage selected from
Origen’s Commentary on the Songs of Songs (CS 2.8). The verse
185
186 CLIO PAVLANTOS
Origen examines is ‘We will make thee likenesses of gold with sil-
ver inlays, till the King recline at his table’ (SS 1.11–12a).
The section as a whole exhibits elements identified by Tor-
jesen in her analysis of Origen’s exegesis: after quoting from the
Song of Songs, Origen explicates the passage in his own words,
identifying the actors who are speaking (‘Verse’); he continues, of-
ten utilizing catalogues of citations from scripture based on a single
term, followed by an aside to the reader, but also in the form of a
general analytical statement on the passage (‘Narrative’); sometimes
Origen’s explications refer to the Bride as the church (‘Teaching’),
and sometimes to the Bride as the soul (‘Reader’). Concluding this
section, Origen writes a final repetition the original verse with a
spiritual teaching to the reader (‘Reader’). Rather than conforming
to Torjesen’s concluding figure pattern, it is one of Torjesen’s in-
termediary steps in the cycle (‘Reader’), since it is not the conclud-
ing passage of the book.
ORIGEN’S ORGANIZATION OF SCRIPTURE

Scripture in Origen’s time was not organized into standard chapter
and verse. Therefore, his citations take the form of abbreviated
stories. His ability to evoke a vivid miniature of the story in ques-
tion is remarkable, and is, no doubt, one of the qualities that made
him a great catechetical teacher. His recitations of proof texts pile
story upon story, not only recalling the story for the reader, but
evoking the sense memory of those stories as well.
Origen is adept at organizing the text to be analyzed. There
are three exegetical cycles that result from Origen breaking the line
into three sections. The first cycle, based on the text ‘We will
make,’ identifies the speakers of the line and takes Origen into their
significance for the Church, as the Bride, in her marriage to Christ.
The second cycle takes up ‘likenesses of gold with silver inlays,’
which examines gold and silver as metaphor, and their pedagogical
significance for the Bride and Christ. The third cycle examines ‘till
the King recline at his table,’ focusing again on Christ and the
church, and this time including the spiritual formation of the indi-
vidual, the third reading of the verse.
ORIGEN’S WRITINGS ON THE SONG OF SONGS 187
TEXT ANALYSIS
First Exegetical Cycle: ‘We will make’

Origen opens his exegesis by quoting the verse: ‘We will make thee
likenesses of gold with silver inlays, till the King recline at his table.’
He notes, as he often does in the Commentary, that the Song of
Songs is written as a play with a cast of characters. For Origen, the
identity of the speaker in the play is the starting point of his exege-
sis, defining its trajectory and the texts to be consulted, and with
the verse quotation, constitutes the first part of his exegesis
(‘Verse’). The ‘we’ in ‘We will make thee likenesses’ are: ‘the friends
and companions of the Bridegroom – who, on the mystical inter-
pretation, can be taken, as also we remarked before, either as the
angels or even the prophets, or as the patriarchs – appear as speak-
ing the words quoted to the Bride’ (CS 2.8 [148]).
The companions of the Bridegroom are the guardians and
teachers of the Bride, who prepare her for the Bridegroom. In the
context of the Song of Songs, Origen identifies the Bride as either
the church or the soul of the reader. The Bridegroom is always
Christ. Origen has included angels in the companions of the Bride-
groom, adding them to the companions already identified as the
prophets and patriarchs of the Old Testament. The angels are an
important addition to the companions.
Origen states that angels have been active throughout scrip-
ture, before they ministered to Jesus in the wilderness. He goes on
to say that the Law was ‘ordained by angels in the hand of a media-
tor’ (CS 2.8 [148], citing Gal 3.19). The angels, as messengers be-
tween God and the prophets and patriarchs, have a more direct
relationship to God. Angelic instruction or ministration is more
direct than human prophecy. Such instruction, added to the pro-
phetical and patriarchal, further proves that the companions of the
Bridegroom have been preparing the Bride from the beginning of
time. Origen concludes his defense of angels as companions to the
Bridegroom by paraphrasing Paul: ‘He chose us in Christ before
the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted
in His sight, predestinating us in charity unto the adoption of sons’
(CS 2.8 [149]). The Bride is identified as the preexistent church,
attested to by Paul. This is the end of the first part of the first exe-
getical cycle. The identification of the angels has prepared the
188 CLIO PAVLANTOS
ground for the next movement of Origen’s exegesis, the revelation

of the preexistent church in scripture.
Origen goes on to defend the preexistent Christian church,
beginning with: ‘Remember Thy congregation, O Lord, which
Thou hast gathered from the beginning’ (CS 2.8 [149], citing Ps
72). Origen then states: ‘the Apostle says that the Church is built
on the foundation not of the apostles only, but also of the proph-
ets’ (CS 2.8 [149], citing Eph 2.20). Origen strengthens his premise,
by referring to creation, naming Adam as a prophet of the preexist-
ent church:
And among the prophets Adam too is reckoned, who prophe-
sied ‘the great mystery in Christ and in the Church’ [Eph 5.32],
when he said: ‘For this cause a man shall leave his father and
mother, and cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one
flesh’ [Gen 2.24]. It is clearly with reference to these words of
his that the Apostle says that ‘this is a great mystery, but I
speak in Christ and the Church’ [Eph 5.32] (CS 2.8 [149])
Here, Adam is the prophet foretelling the coming of Christ. Origen
brackets Adam’s prophesy between repeating quotations of Paul,
so that the words ‘great mystery’ and ‘Christ and the church’ (Eph
5.32) come before and after Adam’s speech. They surround ‘For
this cause a man shall leave his father and mother, and cleave to his
wife, and they shall be two in one flesh.’ (Gen 2.24). The ‘great
mystery’ of ‘Christ and the church’ is now foretold at the wedding
of Adam and Eve. Adam’s words have acquired a new meaning.
Adam’s speech no longer refers simply to the particular bond of
marriage, as Israel would have understood it, and as many readers
still understand it, but to the relationship between Christ, the
church and the soul. The quotation from Genesis, bracketed be-
tween the repeated Ephesians quotation, places the prophecy of
Christ at the beginning of Creation, and illustrates exactly what the
‘mystery’ is. The text configuration creates a brilliant defense of
Origen’s premise that the church existed before Creation, and that
Adam, the first man, foretells Christ, the last man.
Origen draws on more references to marriage before he leaves
the theme of the preexistent church. He elaborates on the meta-
phor of marriage, focusing again on the nature of the bond, with
‘For Christ so loved the Church that He delivered Himself up for
it’ paraphrasing Paul (Eph 5.25), emphasizing the sacrificial nature

of marriage. Origen follows with:
For how could he have loved her if she did not exist? Un-
doubtedly Heloved her who did exist; she existed in all the
saints who have been since time began. So, loving her, He
came to her; and, ‘as the children were partakers of flesh and
blood, He also Himself in like manner was made a sharer of
the same’ [Heb 2.14], and delivered Himself up for them. They
themselves were the Church whom He loved (CS 2.8 [150])
Coming after Adam’s prophecy, this quotation reads as a statement
on the sacrificial nature of the love between husband and wife, as
well as how tenderly Christ loves the preexistent church, dying for
it, that he might be resurrected. Indeed, Christ marries the church,
making marriage the consistent image in Origen’s defense of the
preexistent church. After this text, Origen restates his premise that
the angels and prophets ministered to the Church from the begin-
ning. This is the final point to be made in his premise that the
Christian Church was founded at the beginning of creation, with
Adam as its first prophet.
Origen closes this cycle with a teaching to the reader: ‘We are
setting out to show in what sense the holy angels who had charge
of the Bride while she was yet a little child, before the coming of
the Lord, are identical with the friends and companions of the
Bridegroom’ (CS 2.8 [150]). He then repeats the opening verse,
moving directly into a discussion of the next part of the verse
(‘Reader’). This concludes the first exegetical cycle.
Second Exegetical Cycle: ‘likenesses of gold with silver

inlays’
In exploring the metaphor of silver and gold in scripture, Origen
identifies the Law derived in the Old Testament as pedagogical
preparation of the Bride. Origen notes that the companions of the
Bride cannot make the Bride ornaments of gold, but only likeness-
es of gold and that they have only enough silver for inlays.
The first meaning Origen gives to gold and silver are that gold
symbolizes the perceptive and incorporeal nature, whereas silver
symbolizes the power of speech and reason. He then cites and par-
aphrases his proof text:
190 CLIO PAVLANTOS
even as the Lord says through the prophet: ‘I gave you silver
and gold, but you have made silver and golden Baalim’ [Hos
2.8]. Which is as much to say: ‘I gave you perception and rea-
son, with which to perceive and worship me, your God; but
you have transferred the perception and reason that is in you
to the worship of evil spirits’ (CS 2.8 [151]).
In this case, Israel has misused the gifts of God, perception and
eloquence.
There is a further symbolic meaning in silver and gold, as the
visible expression of the divine. Origen then turns to the Tabernac-
le (Ex 25–7) and notes gold altar objects such as the Ark of Testi-
mony and the altar of incense, then seeing the Temple itself as the
visible expression of the heavenly order, patterns of the true, but
not the truth. He sees that everything written under the Law is also
a likeness of gold, a natural law that contains knowledge (CS 2.8
[152]).
Origen returns to a quotation from the first exegetical cycle.
While it referred to the angels ministering to the preexistent church
in the first exegetical cycle, here the quotation will refer to the Law
as a divinely inspired pattern of truth, but not the truth itself:
For it seems to me that because the Law which ‘was ordained
by angels in the hand of the mediator’ [Gal 3.19], had ‘but a
shadow of good things to come, not the very image of the
things’ [Heb 10.1], and because all the things that happened to
those who are described as being under the Law happened in a
figure, not the truth, these things are all of them likenesses of
gold, not true gold (CS 2.8 [152]).
In this case, the true gold represents things unseen, with the like-
nesses being the visible expression of things unseen (CS 2.8 [152]).
What is in heaven contains the true, while what is on earth is a pat-
tern of the truth. Origen sees the Law and Judaism as a pattern of
the true, but not the truth itself (CS 2.8 [153]).
The point of Origen’s discussion of the symbology of silver
and gold is that the companions of the Bridegroom, the angels,
prophets and patriarchs referred to earlier, have been teaching the
Bride through the Law and the Prophets ‘by means of figures, and
images, and likenesses, and parables’ (CS 2.8 [152]). Origen goes on
to say that the ‘silver inlays’ of the verse are ‘tokens of a spiritual
meaning and a rational interpretation’ (CS 2.8 [154]). These guardi-

ans and trustees teach before the Crucifixion, so they can only al-
lude to the wisdom to come. Israel cannot know the wisdom the
Christian Church will inherit. Judaism, then, is a likeness of gold.
Origen then makes a brief detour in his discussion, acknowl-
edging that personal knowledge of the truth is always possible:
‘When, however, a man ‘shall be converted to the Lord’, and ‘the
veil shall be taken away’ from him, then he will see true gold’ (CS
2.8 [153], citing 2 Cor 3.16). This insight is reinforced by Origen’s
understanding of the Crucifixion as standing outside of time: ‘You
must understand ‘the end of ages’ rather as the consummation of
all things’ (CS 2.8 [153]). ‘Consummation’ clearly refers to the Cru-
cifixion. The understanding of the Crucifixion, Origen is saying,
can come at any time, before or after the event.
Building on his detour, Origen cites a case in point. The small
silver inlays symbolize the flashes of truth in the prophets. Origen
terms them ‘tokens of spiritual meaning and a rational interpreta-
tion’ (CS 2.8 [154]). He cites an instance of a prophet revealing the
hidden workings of God: ‘Isaias when he says: ‘For the vineyard of
the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the house of Juda, His
beloved newly planted vine’; and again in another place: ‘The many
waters of many nations’ ‘ (CS 2.8 [154], citing Is 5.7 and 8.7). Ori-
gen will also refer to Ezechiel’s explanation of Oolla and Ooliba as
Samaria and Judah (CS 2.8 [154], citing Ez. 23.4). These instances
of revelatory insight, however, are rare among the companions of
the Bridegroom.
It is the Passion of Christ that brings the revelation of the
truth of God’s love. Origen again refers to the veil of the temple
(Mt 27.51): ‘At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in
two’, interpreting it as follows: ‘thus openly declaring to all men
that that which had been formerly concealed could now be seen’
(CS 2.8 [154]). The true gold of heaven is now visible to all. After
the revelation of the Crucifixion, true gold and silver are now used
freely, and the traces of gold and flashes of revelation that came
before the Crucifixion can now be identified. The time for the like-
nesses of gold has finished. When full revelation comes, the like-
ness gives way to the truth of God’s love. Origen catalogues some
signs from the Exodus:
192 CLIO PAVLANTOS
Now, therefore, they will use no longer little inlays of silver,

but will use it copiously and freely. For they will understand
that Christ was in that likeness of gold, the rock, which is said
to follow the people and affordthem drink, and that the Sea is
Baptism, and the cloud the Holy Spirit, and the manna the
Word of God, and the paschal lamb the Passion of Christ, and
the veil which is in the Holy of Holies and by which the divine
secret things were covered, is His flesh; and countless other
things will lie open to them from His resurrection, not now
like a little inlay, but as spread out in all their breadth (CS 2.8
[155]).
Origen demonstrates here that it is only with the knowledge of the
Crucifixion that the full meaning of scripture is revealed. The Cru-
cifixion has ended the time of preparation and brought the time of
fulfillment. The ornaments made for the Bride by the companions
were only meant to prepare the Bride, to teach her so that she
might be ready for the full truth of the Crucifixion. The full truth
of God’s love for humanity has been revealed.
Third Exegetical Cycle: ‘till the King recline at his table’

The final cycle of the section focuses on the effect of the Crucifix-
ion on the church and on the individual. Origen begins with the
church. He again turns to Balaam, this time referring to the birth
and death of Christ: ‘A star’, he says, ‘shall rise out of Jacob and a
man shall come forth from his seed … For God shall bring him
out of Egypt … Lying down he shall rest as a lion and as a lion’s
whelp, and who shall rouse him up?’ (CS 2.8 [156], citing Num
24.14, 7–9). Again, the Crucifixion is the culmination of Scripture,
the fulfillment of prophecy.
Origen next considers the question of the companions’
knowledge: how did the prophets and fathers before the Crucifix-
ion understand the coming Christ? Origen concludes:
For the things we believe actually to have happened they, with
a greater expectation, believed as going to happen. As, there-
fore, the faith of believers since Christ’s coming in things that
have already taken place has brought them to the summit of
perfection, so also did their faith in things to come bring them
to the same end (CS 2.8 [156–7]).
For Origen, faith in the coming Christ imparts the same under-
standing of the truth as faith after the Crucifixion. It brings the
soul to the same state of maturity. This reflection takes Origen to
his second interpretation, pertaining to the individual soul.
For the soul, ‘ till the King recline at his table’ has to do with
the Bride’s readiness to accept Christ into her heart. Likenesses are
for a specific purpose: to ready the soul, as the Bride, to receive the
Bridegroom of Christ. In one of several asides to the reader
(‘Reader’) in this cycle, Origen states:
These likenesses had, therefore, to be made only ‘till the King
recline at His table’ – that is, only until such a soul shall ad-
vance sufficiently to receive ‘the King reclining at His table’ in
herself. For this King says Himself: ‘I will dwell among them,
and I will walk among them’[Lev 26.12], meaning among
those, surely, who offer such roomy hearts to the Word of
God that He may even be said to walk about in them, that is,
in the open spaces of a fuller understanding and a wider
knowledge (CS 2.8 [158]).
Origen interprets Leviticus in a new way. Reading back into scrip-
ture from the Crucifixion, he can now see the quote applied to the
individual soul as well as to the nation of Israel. Origen then de-
scribes the soul ready to receive Christ: ‘That King, who is the
Word of God, reclines, then, at His table in that soul who … has
no vice in her … full of holiness, full of piety, faith, charity, peace,
and all the other virtues.Then it is that the King takes pleasure in
resting and reclining at His table in her’ (CS 2.8 [158]). Origen goes
on to describe the banquet that Christ and Father have in the heart
of such a soul: ‘Peace is the first food put there, with it are served
humility and patience, clemency likewise and gentleness and – the
sweetest of all to Him – cleanness of heart. But charity holds the
highest place at this banquet’ (CS 2.8 [159]). In his lesson for the
reader, charity is the crowning virtue, the one to be most sought.
This is the instruction to the reader, paired with the spiritual read-
ing of the verse (‘Reader’).
This exegetical cycle concludes the section. Origen imparts his
concluding teaching, making it a spiritual teaching to the reader in
Torjesen’s system (‘Reader’), but incorporating the repetition of the
verse from Torjesen’s final movement of the exegetical cycle
(‘Verse Repeat’): ‘On these lines, therefore, on this third interpreta-
194 CLIO PAVLANTOS
tion, you will see that the words: ‘We will make thee likenesses of
gold with silver inlays, till the King recline at His table’, may be
applied to any individual soul’ (CS 2.8 [159]). At the end of the
third cycle, Origen reveals a dual concern in this section: the spir-
itual advancement of the reader and the premise that the Church,
as Bride of Christ, has been loved by God from the beginning of
Creation.
Conclusion
The three exegetical cycles Origen forms out of the text all support
one conclusion: the prophets and patriarchs of Israel, as well as the
angels, have been guiding and guarding the Bride, the church, from
the beginning of creation, teaching her through parables, figures
and the Law until the Bridegroom, Christ, should appear to claim
her through the Crucifixion. These companions of the Bridegroom
have not the wisdom of the Bridegroom, but they have some un-
derstanding of it, which they impart to the Bride. This the Bride
must learn to be ready to receive the Bridegroom so that he may
feast and live within her. For the individual, the teachings of the
companions are a preparation of one’s heart, making it fit for the
Bridegroom. All of this happens because God loves his creation.
The Mystery of Christ and the Church: Ephesians and

Genesis
The combination of Ephesians with Genesis in the first exegetical
cycle articulates two aspects of the mystery of Christ and the
church: Origen has proved that Christ, and by extension the
church, are foretold at creation, foreshadowing the Crucifixion; and
he alludes to the nature of Christ’s love for humanity by including
‘cleave to his wife’ in the quotation of Adam’s prophecy. These
aspects are highlighted against the background of the specific story
of Adam and Eve in Genesis and Paul’s directives to husbands and
wives in Ephesians. Marriage is the background of the proof texts,
an illustration of God’s love of human beings.
The Love of God

The love of God moves through all three exegetical cycles: in the
angels whose work is to carry the instructions of God to earth, as
they guide and guard the church before the Crucifixion; in the
prophecy of Christ’s coming, spoken by Adam at the event of his

union with Eve, giving hope to the world; in the prophets and pa-
triarchs God creates in Israel; and in the ultimate revelation of the
love of God and Christ, the Crucifixion. God loves the church and
soul with a spousal love, caring for it so that it may receive his son.
It is the love of God for his creatures, among them the men and
women of earth, that has brought about all the events of scripture,
culminating in the Crucifixion. In this section, Origen has told the
whole story of scripture through the exegesis of ‘we will make thee
likenesses of gold with silver inlays till the King recline at his table’
(SS 1.11–12a).
THE ORDER OF HUMAN LOVE
Origen as Homilist
Origen’s first and second homilies are abridged versions of his
Commentary. While the first homily covers the first two books
extant of the Commentary, the second homily covers the last two
books extant. In writing for the congregation, Origen makes a few
concessions to the more general knowledge of his audience. Most
of the same points are made. The logic underlying them is not ar-
ticulated.
The text of the Homilies was translated into the Latin from
the Greek by Jerome. There has been controversy over the transla-
tions of Origen into Latin, particularly the work of Rufinus in the
Commentary. This chapter presents an opportunity to compare
two exegesis of one text; ‘Set ye in order charity in me’ (SS 2.4b).
Chapter 3 examined Origen’s exegesis of the text in the Commen-
tary (CS 3.7). Origen’s exegesis of the same text appears in the sec-
ond homily (HS 2.8). Origen’s rationale remains the same, even if it
is not set out before the congregation. The ordering of human love
remains unchanged. The most notable difference is that Jerome’s
text is clearly one to be heard rather than read, but this would be
appropriate in a homily.
Torjesen’s cycle of exegesis is somewhat different in the
homilies than the Commentary. The verse is repeated (‘Verse’), but
the narrative and the teaching are combined into a narrative where
the story is told as spiritual interaction between Christ and the
Church that the hearer is to act upon in his or her own life (‘Narra-
tive/Teaching’). In the homilies the hearer is often addressed di-
196 CLIO PAVLANTOS
rectly (‘Hearer’). In the homily examined here, the ending verse

repetition has an interesting twist (‘Verse’).
TEXT ANALYSIS
The Lesson
Origen begins, as in Commentary, with the quote of the verse to be
analyzed: ‘Set ye in order charity in me’ (‘Verse’). Then he goes di-
rectly to his teaching saying: ‘For truly the charity of many is in a
state of disorder; they accord the second place in their loving to
that which ought to be first, and to that which should come second
they give the first … But the charity of the saints has been set in
order’ (HS 2.8 [295]). Origen assumes his congregation to be like
most people, loving inappropriately. He acknowledges that the
right order of love is difficult: only the saints love in an orderly
way.
The change of tone from the Commentary is immediately ap-
parent; this is not an intellectual discourse written for the academic
mind. Origen gives the kind of illustration and detail for the aver-
age congregant preoccupied with family and community. He
doesn’t cite the scriptural proof texts for his assertion. It isn’t im-
portant for his congregation to understand what the foundation for
his lesson is. They have to follow it to bring their souls closer to
God. This is the point of Origen’s homily. However, the pattern
for the ordering of human love is exactly the same as in his Com-
mentary (CS 3.7).
The First Repetition

Origen goes on to explain the order of love in terms his congrega-
tion can understand, saying:
I want to unfold some examples. The Divine Word wants you
to love father, son, daughter. The Divine Word wants you to
love Christ, and it does not tell you not to love your children,
nor does it tell you that you should not be united in love with
those who gave you birth. It tells you: ‘You must not havea
love that is disordered. You must not love your father and
your mother first and me afterwards; you must not be pos-
sessed by love of son and daughter more than by love of me.
He that loveth father and mother more than me is not worthy

of me’(HS 2.8 [295], citing Mat 10.37).
Origen emphasizes God’s understanding of the human heart, and
asks his congregation to give primacy to the divine in their hearts.
Origen is concerned with communicating the right order here and
he does not give more citations than needed. Origen the accom-
plished exegete, master of the biblical canon, has been replaced by
Origen the plain speaker, addressing the common householder and
family man. Clearly, he was a keen observer of household life and
human families. This is the first repetition of the lesson (‘Narra-
tive/Teaching’).
The Second Repetition

He follows this up with a direct address to his hearers, repeating his
message for the third time. However, he does not repeat his mes-
sage in the same way, but intensifies it by employing the interroga-
tive:
Which among us, do you think, has progressed so far as to
have chief and first of all his loves that of the Word of God,
and to put his children in second place? After this fashion you
must love your wife also. ‘For no man ever hated his own
flesh’ [Eph 5.29]; but he loves her as his flesh; ‘they two’, it is
said, ‘shall be two’ – not one in spirit, but – ‘shall be two in
one flesh’ [Eph.31]. Love God too, but love Him not as flesh
and blood but as Spirit; for ‘he who is joined to the Lord is
one spirit’ [I Cor 6.17] (HS 2.8 [295]).
Origen has laid out the whole order of human love under God
again, but this time in a more nuanced fashion. He has established
the primacy of the Word in the well-ordered heart, with children
second, as expected. He goes on to illustrate the unique nature of
the marriage bond, the paradox of two individuals who live as one
in the flesh, but remain separate in spirit. That he stipulates the
individuality of spouses speaks again to the status of women as
individuals. It is an interesting stipulation in his order of charity put
forth in the homily. Origen then explains why the marital bond is
yet not as intimate as the one between the soul and the Word, for
the soul and the Word are one in spirit, beyond word and flesh,
living more closely together within the heart. Origen addresses his
198 CLIO PAVLANTOS
hearers directly, following another pattern identified by Torjesen

(‘Hearer’).
Origen briefly addresses the issue of merit, instructing his
hearers that a virtuous domestic takes precedence over a bad son.
While he stresses the honorable life in Commentary (CS 3.7), this is
the only time he mentions it directly in the second homily (HS 2.8
[295]). Origen leaves the relationships of family life to address the
more difficult questions of the primacy of God in the heart and the
problem of anger. The order of Christ’s commandments still gov-
erns human interactions, even angry ones.
The Problem of Anger

Origen articulates the problem of anger as follows, quoting from
the gospel:
He does not say that thou shalt love God as thyself, that a
neighbor shall be loved with the whole heart, with the whole
soul, with the whole strength, withthe whole mind. Again, he
said : ‘Love your enemies’[Mt 5.44], and did not add ‘with the
whole heart.' The Divine Word is not disordered, He does not
command impossibilities, and He does not say ‘Love your en-
emies as yourselves’, but only ‘Love your enemies’. It is
enough for them that we love them and do not hate them (HS
2.8 [296]).
Origen has reemphasized his point by putting his order of human
love back into disorder: loving God as self; loving the neighbor as
the hearer should love God; loving the enemy as God should be
loved. He makes disorder ridiculous by placing his mismatched
pairs at the end of his homily, after he has repeatedly described the
right ordering of human love. Origen teaches, here, by exposing
the hearer’s disordered heart in a public homily. Origen has a thor-
ough understanding of his audience. He reveals the distractions
within his hearers’ hearts, reinforcing the rightness of the correct
ordering of human love. He does not go into the deeper mystery of
the connection between love and hate, he doesn’t reveal the scrip-
tural foundations for his understanding. He simply tells the mem-
bers of his congregation what they need to know to live out the
Gospel. Origen has returned to the form he used in his first exposi-
tion of the lesson; he narrates the order of human love. Torjesen’s
pattern can be identified here as a direct address to the congrega-

tion (‘Narrative/Teaching’).
Origen ends his exegesis, but Torjesen’s repetition pattern
does not occur (‘Verse Repeat’). Origen finishes with a direct chal-
lenge to the congregation: ‘Which among us, think you, is a man of
ordered charity?’ (HS 2.8 [296])
Conclusion
In reading the second homily, a different rhetoric emerges from
that of the Commentary. Origen engages his hearers directly, chal-
lenging them to put the lesson into practice. He repeats his mes-
sage several times, always recasting it in a different mode: story,
direct challenge by employing the interrogative, and deliberate dis-
ordering of the order of human love. Origen’s language is vivid,
paraphrasing scriptural sources and weaving them seamlessly into
the narrative of the homily. A master exegete, Origen is a master
homilist as well. He is able to impart all the nuance of his theology
to his congregation as effectively as to his serious students.
The Terminology of Love

In his homiletic exegesis of ‘Set ye in order charity in me’ (SS 2.4b),
Origen, rather than remaining in the allegorical reading of most of
his Commentary, gives direct instructions to his congregation on
how to live a Christian life. The directives as to the ordering of the
heart are clearly stated. It should be noted that Origen, in transla-
tions by Rufinus and Jerome, in the Commentary and the Homilies,
consistently uses the term ‘charity’ in referring to God’s love. This
follows Origen’s description of the pure and perfect nature of
God’s love, evident in the Prologue to the Commentary (CS Pr. 2
[32]). Origen considers God’s love to be the highest form of love,
higher than any term for love that may be used when speaking of
God, even the more passionate terms. Divine love will be discussed
further in the conclusion of this thesis.
PHILANTHROPIA AS GOD’S LOVING-
KINDNESS:
ORIGEN OF ALEXANDRIA AND HIS
THEOLOGY OF LOVE
THEODORE GREY DEDON

Note how scripture says
there must always be fire burning on the altar.
Scripture also says you will be called priests of the Lord
and that text is also addressed to you:
‘You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood,
a people set apart for God.’
So, if you are indeed a high priest of God
and wish to perform the priestly functions of your soul,
make sure that the fire never goes out on your altar.
– Origen of Alexandria 1
Augustine in his Confessions, famously says ‘The single desire that
dominated my search for delight was simply to love and be loved.’ 2
Love is a desire which motivates people all over the world for a
variety of reasons. In the Christian tradition, nearly no matter what
denomination, God is Love. This ideal is an ethic, a virtue, a state
of being, and in a sense, a way of looking at being-itself. Love is a
1 Origen, Homily on Leviticus, 4.6.440; cf. McGuckin, J. The Book of
Other Early Christian Contemplatives. (Boston: Shambhala, 2002), p. 12

Mystical Chapters: Meditations on the Soul’s Ascent from the Desert Fathers and
2 Augustine. Confessions (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992),
Bk II, ii.
201
202 THEODORE GREY DEDON
cure-all word which relates to and identifies with many aspects of

the greatest aspects of human experience. Christian love is a central
theme in the tradition precisely because of the lofty notion of the
idea itself. It is a word which can, in essence, concretize God. This
is why from the teachings of Jesus all the way to the present day
Christian love is a dominant theological concept. Christian love is
not informed by Christ alone, however. In fact, it is influenced by
previous movements of thought and, maybe more importantly,
through particular individuals. Origen of Alexandria situates at the
crossroads of many intersecting notions of love and – consciously
– chooses to identify with the Christian ideal. 3 Contextualizing and
analyzing Origen’s understanding of Christian love not only helps
us clarify his thoughts but also the broad influence they had on the
tradition at large.
The first and potentially most important point to make in rela-
tion to such a task is that Origen never used the word ‘Love’ in his
life. 4 Origen was a 3rd century Alexandrian and the texts we have
today are written in Greek. They have been translated since then
into Latin from the Greek texts and, at later times, translated from
the Latin texts into English and other languages. In English transla-
tions of Origen’s work we see the word ‘Love’ as translated from
the Latin word caritas which translates more accurately in English
to charity. Initially, pay mind that this immediate approximation of
charity and love as synonymous is already an interesting notion.
But, because his texts are actually first in Greek and not Latin this
should provide an even more interesting insight. Caritas is a favored
translation from a combination of Greek words, including agape
and philanthropia. Another word translated into Love from Latin is
the word amor, which comes from the Greek word eros in its vari-
ous translations. As such, this is not a rule, but a general trend in
the history of translations. 5
3 See Henri Crouzel, Origen (T&T Clark Publishers, 2000).

4 Hannah Hunt, ‘[Origen on] Love’ in: The Westminster Handbook to
Origen. Edited by J. McGuckin, (Louisville: WJK Press, 2004), Amazon
Kindle L(location) 3121. Many abbreviations and citations are as
expanded from this Origenian reference resource.
5 Ibid.
ORIGEN OF ALEXANDRIA AND HIS THEOLOGY OF LOVE 203
Is love, then, not an idea Origen is actually familiar with?

Does he not know Christian love, or Love-itself, as we might to-
day? Actually, it would seem quite the contrary. Though limited by
mistranslations, digging into Origen’s thought we actually see how
Love is a central motivating theme of his whole systematic theolo-
gy. His worldview, and the God he so reveres, is revealed contin-
gently through such concepts we might call Love today. This dy-
namic is complex and interwoven in such a way that it gives a bold
quality to Love which advances more than just the higher forms of
agape or the lower forms of eros. It is a hybrid of the two, with sig-
nificant contribution and implication of Christian grace. This is
how we can locate Origen’s special position of being in between
classical Hellenistic and Christian ideas. However, before we dare
the trenches, it is important to note another thing: Origen, being
well aware of Hellenistic notions of love, emphatically identifies as
a Christian and a man of the Church. 6 Love, both Hellenistic and
Christian, is a high ideal. This fact may help provide distinctive
qualities between the two forms of thought taking place at that
time – and, in a large way, help solidify Origen’s place in the Chris-
tian cannon. James Zona argues a good starting place for Origen is
the axiom ‘everyone loves something’. 7 Origen himself says:
‘We ought to understand also that it is impossible for human
nature not to be always feeling the passion of love for some-
6 Hans Urs von Balthasar,. Origen, Spirit & Fire, (Washington, D.C.:
The Catholic University of America Press, 1984), the introductory note.
Hans Urs von Balthasar quotes Origen: ‘I want to be a man of the
Church. I do not want to be called by the name of some founder of a
heresy, but the name of Christ, and to bear that name which is blessed on
the Earth. It is my desire, in deed as in spirit, both to be and to be called a
Christian. If I, who seem to be your right hand am called Presbyter and
seem to preach the Word of God, if I do something against the discipline
of the Church and the Rule of the Gospel so that I become a scandal to
you, the Church, then may the whole Church, in unanimous resolve, cut
me, its right hand, off, and throw me away.’
7 James Zona. ‘‘Set Love in Order in Me’: Eros-Knowing in Origen
and Desiderium-Knowing in Saint Bernard.’ Cistercian Studies Quarterly,

Vol. 34, No. 2 (1999): 157.
thing. Everyone who has reached the age that they call puberty
loves something.’ 8
To understand Origen on Love we must identify the various dy-
namics attributed to the idea. Origen rarely ever identifies philoso-
phers by name, with a major exception being against Celsus, so
when looking at Origen’s ideas it is best to understand him in the
context of the broader thought. Though typically cast as a Middle-
Platonist, Origen is probably better understood to be a synthesis of
Hellenistic and Christian thought, but heavily influenced by both
Hebrew and Egyptian culture. Because names are not important to
Origen, locating the idea of Love is going to have to be done in the
same way scholars try to understand problems in Origen’s soteriol-
ogy – an aspect of his system directly related to his idea of Love.
His soteriological design has been in question since the time he
wrote it up until this very day. 9 The problem Origen’s critics have
is his leaving of the door of salvation, potentially, opened for Satan.
His soteriology best represented in the Peri Archon, but the method
used to understand his thought is by contextualizing the ideas
against other contemporary and historical thinkers. Then, by look-
ing at thinkers before, during, and after Origen’s time on the exact
same concepts – Agape, Eros, Philanthropia – we should be able to
attempt to accomplish the task at hand.
THE CHRISTIAN CONCEPT OF LOVE – AGAPE AND GRACE

Already, we know Love is important to the Christian tradition. To
Augustine, Love was the ultimate commandment. To Saint Paul
and Aquinas, Love is the highest virtue and ideal. To John the Di-
vine, God is Love. Christianity is, in a sense, a religion based
around the very idea of Love. In other words, Love is a privileged
ideal. It is almost certainly among the highest if not the highest of
all words positively associated with God in the tradition. In the
8 Origen, Commentary on the Canticles, Prologue II.

9 Scholarship around Origen is often associated with his controver-
sies and condemnations in the Justinian controversies. Recently, scholar-
ship is opening up to other aspects of his thought as he becomes a more
common theologian in western Christian history.
New Testament, the word Love is translated from the word caritas
which is translated from the word agape. The Greek word agape is
practically the only word used for the idea of Love in the New Tes-
tament outside of very few instances otherwise.
Agape is a transcendent form of Love. Anders Nygren in
Agape and Eros argues Christianity’s notion of agape supplants the
Hellenistic notion of eros. 10 The difference between the two forms
of love is that agape is typically understood from above and eros
from below, the latter being in accordance with sexual relations or
the ascent of the soul. Though later theologians would use the
terms to their liking, the notion that one comes from above and
one comes from below worked well with whoever was using the
ascent of the soul or the descent of God’s Love in their work. 11
However it was, the terms were usually used in contrast to each
other, continuing through Latin’s words of love caritas (agape) and
amor (eros). The distinction itself is only necessary insofar as it is one
which is used. Grace, typically, is the normative way Christians
speak of God’s Love. Grace is the participatory aspect of a human
being with God’s Love. Eros is a different form of participatory
love, it is different in that it is sexual and, most importantly, is an
ascending process. The descending is from God’s Love for the par-
ticular human being and for humanity itself.
Basically, agape as a transcendent form of love (God is Love;
cf. Jn 1) interacts with grace in that it is the participatory element of
Love-itself with its love for humanity. Irving Singer says, ‘agape pre-
cedes man’s love and excels it in every aspect’. 12 It is the idea of
God as Love from which grace flows. This is why it was as potent
in its association as God’s Love in its translation in the Greek New
10 A.L. Peck. ‘Agape and Eros: A Study of the Christian Idea of

Love.’ The Classical Review, Vol. 47, No. 4 (1933): 137–139. Anders Ny-
gren. Agape and Eros (Part I: A Study of the Christian Idea of Love; Part II
The History of the Christian Idea of Love), trans. Philip S. Watson (Joan-
na Cotler Books, 1969).
11 This is to note later theologians like Pseudo-Dionysius, Gregory
of Nyssa, etc. would still use various Greek words for Love.
12 Irving Singer. The Nature of Love, Vol. I: Plato to Luther (Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press, 1964&1984), 264.

Testament. Origen practically agrees with these notions but ex-

presses them in a different way. Hellenistic and Christian differ-
ences are not nearly as apparent between these ideas, as to Origen
love ascends and descends. Preceding the act of a love for humani-
ty is Love itself. Because to a Christian, God is Love.
ORIGEN’S SEMANTIC OF LOVE—EROS, PHILIA, AND

PHILANTHROPIA
Origen employs a dynamic system which encompasses the idea of
Love in a diverse way. Most notably, he offers what Henri Crouzel
considers a hybrid 13 of agape and eros. But Hannah Hunt observed
more recently that actually philanthropia is the preferred word for
love in Origen’s thinking. 14 Before Origen, there was usually a
trend among thinkers to privilege eros over agape or sometimes the
other way around. Origen positively blends the characteristics of
both in his system, but most commonly uses the word philanthropia.
Why? Christian influence holds major sway over Origen and has
greatly impacted the location of love in his theology. There are
many dynamics operating within the broad theme of Love for Ori-
gen. Concepts like grace, the incarnation, atonement, prayer as a
means of attaining grace, and being on fire for God are all im-
portant elements to the broader theory. Origen, in a sense, is carv-
ing out his Christian identity through these very concepts. All of
the various words used for Love are positively Christian.
Anders Nygren offers an idea about the distinction being set
here. He says Origen associates Christianity with a selfless agape and
Greek philosophy with a self-serving eros. But as we will see, this
distinction is not sufficient or exhaustive. Origen uses all of these
terms interchangeably but also distinctly at the same time. Origen is
well aware of semantic problems, having said in his Commentary on
the Canticles:
It makes no difference, therefore, whether the Sacred Scrip-
tures speak of love, or of charity, or of affection; except the
13 Crouzel uses the term hybris to describe Origen’s synthesis.

14 Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2205.
word ‘charity’ is so highly exalted that even God Himself is

called Charity, as John says. 15
Love, then, is a broader concept than any one word describing it.
To Origen, the concept is rich and the distinction between the
kinds of love Nygren makes are not completely there. Origen’s pre-
ferred word is actually philanthropia and by digging up how this
word was used or understood by others, we can illuminate certain
aspects of his theology. Nygren’s distinction, however useful in its
time, falls flat today. He is most likely basing it on the idea that
Origen in fact has an extremely high Christology, and privileges the
ascetic-contemplative worldview. So typical notions associated with
eros would not be ideal to Origen in his life and character – that
seems generally true. But this is not to say the idea itself is different
than what Crouzel argues: a hybrid. This will be developed more
substantially as we get into the differences of the terms.
Hannah Hunt notes that it is predominant in scholarly debate
as to whether Origen sees the terms agape and eros as synonymous. 16
Origen uses these words interchangeably, in a way, so an avenue
for uncovering his meaning is locating other normal understand-
ings before and after he used philanthropia. Love, for Plato, was
about the ascent of the Soul towards the Good or the Beautiful.
This sort of upwards process was considered a relational character-
istic of agape, the form of love itself. But he rarely used the term
himself. C.D. Reeve says the ancient Greeks, as a culture, had two
basic words for the more-ultimate idea of agape. They are eros (verb,
eram) and philia (verb, philein). The first denotes a sexual partner or
lover, the second denotes a friend. This is the sort of distinction
between human relations that sets up lover, friend, and enemy
(those who by definition are not friend or lover). 17 Eros then be-
comes about creative, sexual love; philia about the basic interaction
between friends and enemies, conducive to politics and philosophy.
In Platonic thought, however high the idea of agape may situate, the
Ibid. cf. Origen, Commentary on the Canticles; Commentary on John.

15
Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 3120.

16
17 C.D. Reeve. Plato on Love (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing
Company, Inc., 2006), xvi.

language of eros is far more dominant. In that time, it was the dom-
inant way of speaking about non-political love.
Agape, though not the dominant language for Platonists, is the
common word for Love in the New Testament. In fact, eros is not
in the New Testament at all. Eros was, however, appropriated by
Christian thinkers after Origen. Gregory of Nyssa and Pseudo-
Dionysius, influenced by Origen, preferred the language of eros.
Christians writing the Greek translation of the New Testament fo-
cused the language of God on agape, but in just a few centuries the
language of eros would be as common. Plotinus’s language on the
Beautiful is important to distinguish from Dionysius. While the
latter speaks of the Divine Eros in a sense of passing beyond the
limits of the finite self and as representative of God, Plotinus has it
has a mechanism moving towards it. Eros is an aspect of the One
or the first principle, but it is not the transcendent One itself. 18
This distinction is only important to note because for Plotinus,
nearly a contemporary of Origen and similarly educated in Middle-
Platonism, we see where the idea of Greek love is subordinated. In
Dionysius, a post-Origen apophatic Christian, we see a strong privi-
lege of the idea, no matter if the language is the New Testament’s
agape or the philosophical or sexual notion of eros. 19 To Plotinus,
God is more synonymous with the object of Beauty rather than the
activity of love. God is Beauty inasmuch as God calls all things
towards God’s self by being Beautiful. For Origen, these notions
are distinct and highly interrelated, yet the privilege – if there could
be said to be one – would rest on the idea of Love.
This is a big difference between Origen and other notable
Middle-Platonists. He makes a particular point of heading down
the Christian line of thought. The distinction Nygren sets up, with
Origen privileging agape over eros, is best combated with Crouzel’s
understanding that Origen combines the two ideas positively and
synthetically. Though successfully blending Hellenistic and Chris-
18 John Rist, ‘On the Platonism of Gregory of Nyssa.’ Hermathena

169, Essays on the Platonic Tradition: Joint Committee for Mediterranean
& Near Eastern Studies (2000): 239.
19 John Rist. ‘A Note on Eros and Agape in Pseudo-Dionysius.’
Vigiliae Christianae 20, No. 4 (1966): 235–243.

tian notions on love, it is still important to remember he uses the

word philanthropia most consistently in his texts. What does this
kind of love cover that agape and eros do not? The most common
understanding of the idea is a love of humanity itself. It is a love of
humanity which, for Origen, is represented in a disposition or atti-
tude of loving-kindness. 20 For Origen, the notion is deeply entan-
gled with the Incarnation and the Atonement. While traditionally
the ideal is understood as man’s love for humanity, Origen bifur-
cated the symbol itself and presents it on another level. Philanthro-
pia, to Origen, is God’s love of humanity as well.
The word philia needs to be understood in relationship to typ-
ical Greek ideas on philanthropia. The former is a notion typically
related to friendship. It sets up the kind of distinction between
those you are friendly with and those you are not. It was developed
most substantially in Aristotle who, in a sense, privileged this form
of love as an ideal attitude in politics. When it comes to basic hu-
man relationships philia or friendship is the key. 21 This attitude, to
many Greeks, then mounts a positive abstraction of the human
being itself to represent humanity. This is philanthropia, an attitude
of friendliness – of loving-kindness – towards the idea of the hu-
man being. So a stranger, if you are friendly, is your friend. You can
base this idea on a positive attitude towards humanity itself. God’s
Love of humanity, as considered by Origen, is expressed in his act
of the Incarnation which led to his sacrifice so that we could be
atoned. This divine act of philanthropia might be more properly un-
derstood in light of some other concepts.
In the 4th century, philanthropia was a dominant form of love
associated with statecraft. Much like how philia or friendliness for
Aristotle was the best way for a person to interact in politics, philan-
thropia was the best way for a politician to interact with the peo-
ple. 22 Themistius, Theodosius, and Constantine were all struck by
the idea and used it as a central motivator for their philosophies as
20 Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2168.

21 Stern-Gillet, Suzanne. Aristotle’s Philosophy of Friendship, (New York:
The State University Press of New York, 1995).
22 Glanville Downey, ‘Philanthropia in Religion and Statecraft in the
Fourth Century after Christ.’ Historia 4, (1955): 199.

rulers. 23 Themistius called it the ‘imperial virtue above all others,’

and the virtue to which ‘all other virtues are bound’. 24 The reason
this form of love, to an Emperor, would be the highest ideal is be-
cause of the image it creates of humanity. For Origen, God’s love
in the form of philanthropia is necessary only because of our fallen
sinful state. This is the same in later usages of philanthropia in theo-
logians like Gregory of Nyssa as well as many of these statesmen. 25
It is necessary because there is an imperfection in humanity which
requires a love from outside itself. Be it from God or the Emperor
of the State, the love for humanity comes in spite of its imperfec-
tions. It creates a dependence on the one giving the love from the
one who is beloved. That is not to imply any malice, only to notice
the dynamics of such love.
Where does this dependency and deficiency, resulting in
philanthropia come from? The very first usages of the term are in
Prometheus Bound, a 5th century BCE Greek tragedy. 26 Normally at-
tributed to Aeschylus, the story is based on the Titan Prometheus.
Who, looking upon humanity’s ignorance in darkness, gave them
light; he gave humanity fire. This is the first reference of philanthro-
pia in recorded history, relating to the myth of our differentiation
from the animals. The story is significant because Prometheus, in
giving us fire, is disobeying Zeus’s will to destroy humanity. He
sentences Prometheus to an eternal punishment for his rebellion.
The symbol of Fire, of our elevation in consciousness, of our sepa-
ration from the will of God (Zeus, in this case), and a savior (or
adversary) of humanity are all present forces in this story. Philan-
thropia is a redeeming, illuminating act of loving-kindness. In this
story, like in Origen’s depictions of the Atonement, we are freed of
our ignorance by a kind of love for humanity-itself. In both, our
nature is fundamentally corrupted – or at least imperfect – and we
are saved, despite the suffering of the one who gives us the gift.
23 Ibid., 201.
24 Themistius, Oration I, 5 c.
25 Rist, ‘On the Platonism of Gregory of Nyssa’, 208.
26 Aeschylus, Prometheus, line 11. The word is sometimes understood
to be blind-hope, optimism, and love of what is to be human.

Philanthropia, then, is best understood as a form of love which

acts to perfect the imperfections of the human race. It is love
which places humanity itself and as an idea as its object, not indi-
vidual friends (philia), or sexual partners (eros), or even an abstrac-
tion of love itself (agape). It is loving-kindness towards all humans
as an imperial ideal binding us in the ultimate ideal of Love-itself.
Though in Themistius it was used in a political way, for Origen
philanthropia is a divine and human category. Interestingly, the word
itself is only used two times in the New Testament. As agape is the
standard word for love, philanthropia is present only in Acts 28:2
and Titus 3:4. The scene in Acts is when Paul makes it on shore in
Malta. He is shown philanthropia by the islanders or natives. It is
stressed that it is an ‘unusual’ kindness Paul receives. As Paul gath-
ers sticks for the fire he is bitten by a viper. The islanders believe
this is a punishment from God and surely he was supposed to die
before arriving on shore. Paul shook the snake and showed no ill
effects, leading the islanders to believe he was a god (28:6). The
unusual kindness, the philanthropia, shown to Paul was before he
was viewed as a god by the islanders. It is important to note this
kind of love of humanity as an ideal. They show a love for the
stranger, treating him with hospitality. Until, of course, there is a
sign he is of ill character.
The second time philanthropia appears in the New Testament is
Titus 3:2. Though the authorship of this text is in dispute, it is in
reference to a passage which says: ‘(4) but when the philanthropia of
God our Savior appeared, (5) he saved us, not because of righteous
things we had done, but because of his mercy.’ The word is nor-
mally translated into kindness in English as well. This is almost
exactly the way Origen uses the term. It is the kind of loving-
kindness which flows from God to humanity simply because God
is so generous and loves humanity so much. In this usage of philan-
thropia the writing attributed to Saint Paul is expressing a need for
love via negative contrast. The negative contrast of experience is a
common theological presupposition which implies according to the
Sin of this world we know we need Salvation. Suffering, in a sense,
asks for the high ideal of relief. Philanthropia casts God as the lover
and humanity as God's beloved. And, for Origen, you are called to
love humanity in the same way God does.
Titus’s usage of philanthropia then is different because it is a
love which moves downward. This is where the Greek and Chris-
tian lines between eros and agape get tricky. Philanthropia, as we see,
has two meanings. While in Prometheus Bound it is to imply a love for
humanity that transcends our ignorance or imperfection, in later
times it splits into a) man’s love for humanity (Acts 28:4), and, b)
God’s Love for humanity (Titus 3:2). This is basically a love that
moves horizontally and downwardly, depending on how you look
at it. What is missing, then, is a love which moves upwards. As
Crouzel observed, Origen’s understanding of love is basically a hy-
brid of eros and agape, meaning that his love ascends and descends
simultaneously. Philanthropia shows us how Origen believes God
loves humanity and, in his saving act, incarnated so that we might
have a vehicle of salvation. The concept of philanthropia in this way
is a one-time act. But for Origen that is anything but the case. To
Origen, this act opened up the world to grace, a perpetual form of
God’s philanthropic love for humanity. By the divine love called
grace we ascend towards God and mimic that very love towards
each other.
LOVE IN ORIGEN’S SYSTEMATICS

Now having differentiated between the terms Origen uses and the
general distinctions between Christian notions of agape and Hellen-
istic notions of eros, we can see where the broader idea of Love fits
within Origen’s system. Educated in Middle-Platonism by contem-
poraries like Clement, Origen took his academic post at the famous
School in Alexandria. Though a learned intellectual, Origen was
also later Bishop of Alexandria. 27 This distinct hybrid career be-
tween professor and scholar with bishop and exegete puts Origen
in an interesting position. Not only this, Origen, having been born
in the late second century, is one of the first theologians to system-
atically outline many ideas we still find in Christianity today.
Though his tenure in the Church is tumultuous, he himself holds
the ideal Church central to his system and makes sure to mark him-
self a man of the Church. Since Vatican II, Origen’s work has been
regarded more positively in the Western tradition. The Eastern tra-
For a wide commentary on the life and thought of Origen see Jo-
27
seph W. Trigg, Origen (London & New York: Routledge, 1998).

dition, however, has always held Origen as one of the most histori-
cally significant thinkers in Christianity.
Having been trained in what we broadly categorize as Middle-
Platonic thought, Origen positively synthesized the volksgeist of
Egypt with the fledgling Christian religion. In Alexandria, he was
not alone in his religious conviction, but it was also not necessarily
an area yet dominated by the tradition. It was not until at least two
hundred years later that Christianity was a dominant, less contested
religion in that area. Alexandria was a highly diverse area and Ori-
gen was writing for a diversely educated group of people. In a way,
Egypt was the Light of the World. Though his actual students
were, in fact, of a particular social segment and relatively well off,
he was still dealing with a broader cultural context which took Hel-
lenism seriously. Pagan or Hellenistic philosophy was later rejected
by Christian thinkers, but in Origen’s day it was not so clear-cut.
The most important aspect of his metaphysical system is, like other
Middle-Platonists, the logos. To Origen, the logos is the One; it is
synonymous with Christ. In his Commentary on John, he represents as
high a Christology as one can have. Jesus, the Son of God, is an
Incarnation of what he calls the Prefigured Christ (logos). 28 This is a
contested point amongst interpreters of Origen, but Christ repre-
sents the visible aspect of the Godhead we call the Father. The
relationship between the two is controversial because, some would
believe, he may have subordinated the Son (Christ, logos) to the Fa-
ther. This, of course, is partially why he was in trouble in later cen-
turies, posthumously condemned for heresy.
Origen says in his commentary on Psalm 1 that it is ‘danger-
ous to speak of God,’ even when you are going to tell the truth. 29
The Godhead is practically ineffable to Origen. Origen may be
classified as apophatic for this reason, but he built a considerable
systematic theology around the God after whom one cannot easily
speak. Paramount to this system is an incorporeal God. 30 This in-
forms his anthropology of the human in a fallen state which is in
need of Atonement. This also informs his metaphysical structure in
28 Origen, Commentary on the Gospel of John, n.d.

29 Origen, Commentary on Psalms 1.2. cf. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2210.
30 Origen, Peri Archon 1.1.1–4. cf. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2215.
which history is enacted towards an end of time called the apoka-

tastasis. In this restitution, God is All in All. 31 It could be said Ori-
gen has an elitist view on God. He believes that most Christians
and indeed most people have profane understandings of God. 32 He
is not one to mention particular Christians he believes hold such
views, as he does not frequently cite people by name, but he is no-
torious to have had public dispute with Celsus in Contra Celsus.
Therefore it is important to understand the complexity of his sys-
tem and just what an ineffable God is. To understand the ineffabil-
ity of the Godhead, we must properly understand creation.
God’s first act was creation. Everything in the world is gov-
erned by God’s providence. 33 Counter to Gnostic movements of
his time, Origen held that the material world was created for the
sake of our salvation. It was not a totally negative view of creation,
but one that held a cause of love central to its core. 34 Discouraged
by suffering, some Gnostics held the material world as purely evil
and also accidental. Origen believed God’s providence, even when
we suffer, always maintains a ‘kind’ (philanthropos) and ‘good’ direc-
tion. One of the major themes in Origen’s theory of creation is that
God loves creation equally as much as creation loves God. 35 His
focus, then, is less on expounding the nature of God’s love itself,
but more on God’s love for creation and creation’s love of God.
This is explained in two major ways, one relating to his Christology
and one relating to his anthropology.
Anthropology to any thinker explains a lot about how they
view ideas like Love. Origen has a peculiar belief about the nature
of the human being which has gotten him into some trouble. The
Christian tradition generally maintains conception as the beginning
of life, but Origen disagrees. He believes our immortal souls, in
pursuit of pride or vainglory, turned away from the contemplation
of the Godhead and through the Fall embody our angelic being in
31 Origen, Peri Euchus 25.2. cf. Cor 15:24, 28, 53f. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L
1959.
32 Origen, Peri Archon, 3.3.4.
33 Ibid., 3.3.5.
34 Origen, Peri Euchus 29.13-14. cf. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2331.
35 Ibid., L 3136.
material clothing. This may sound strange, but it is actually an in-

teresting thematic approach to the soteriology it is designed for. By
our free rational volition the soul descended away from God into a
line which can, in fact, be ascended again. The human is a fallen
being but, as an angel by nature, has the birthright to ascend back
toward the divine. Each individual soul exercised its right to freely
choose to worship itself over the loving God who created them.
Over time, most fell. 36 Origen believes the soul is perpetually in
motion. So if you are not moving up you are moving down. You
either accept or reject divine communion. 37 This descending pro-
cess is what he calls cooling off. This cooling is directly opposed to
the symbolism of fire which is extremely important for Origen, and
unsurprisingly, related to ascending towards God or as a symbol
for God itself. We are asked to be on fire for God. It is in this sense,
for Origen, the fire rises.
The first intelligence to cool from God was Satan. In Origen,
Satan is a being who, by his own free will and volition, chose pride
over God. Intelligences are called to contemplate the ‘invisible im-
age of the invisible God’ 38 but Satan refused so he fell, being
clothed in an astral body. 39 There is a strong debate as to how Ori-
gen interprets a particular aspect of Satan’s state. Like us, can Satan
ascend towards God and be saved? The apokatastasis has presented
numerous interpretations by scholars, but there is no positive con-
clusion. Satan has a major role to play in Origen’s cosmic drama.
He and his demonic forces have the opportunity to influence other
free intelligences like human beings away from God. This is a very
long, slow process which takes place in history. The battle itself is
being waged on spiritual, intellectual, and material levels. Eventual-
ly, and after much time, the God who truly loves humanity for it-
self sent his Son to die for our atonement. The incarnation is what
ultimately destroys this ‘conspiracy of demons’. 40
36 Origen, Peri Archon 1–3. cf. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2069.

37 Ibid., 2.9; 2.11.1.
38 Ibid., 1.2.6.
39 Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 1727.
40 Origen, Contra Celsum, 3.29. cf. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 1738.
The incarnation is a self-emptying (kenosis) of divine love. 41

The kenotic act itself is the philanthropia Origen so reveres. 42 This is
precisely the point Origen takes with Celsus, who argues that di-
vine love is inaccessible to the human being. 43 Origen strongly dis-
agrees and believes that God’s love descends towards the human
through the incarnation. For Origen, all intelligences freely made
this choice to turn against God, but in spite of that, the act oc-
curred. This act by God is only because God loves you, not be-
cause you love God. You have already made your stance clear and
are now here in a material body specifically so you can atone for
your sins. Origen believes God loves you, so regardless of your
indiscretions, you will be reunited in spite of estrangement. This is
a love expressed for humanity itself. God sent his Son, the incar-
nate logos, as a human to atone for our sins. This would grant us
passage for ascending towards ‘Christ the Wisdom of God’. 44 The
human who was crucified was ‘fused’ with the logos and shared in
an ethereal and divine quality with the Godhead. 45 This fusion pre-
sented a pathway for what Origen believes is the destiny of other
human beings to become once again united in their love of God
with God’s Love of them.
Remember the state of the human being in Prometheus Bound.
We needed the philanthropia of Prometheus because we were igno-
rant in the darkness. Just as in that ancient tragedy, Origen believed
the human being needed Christ to incarnate as a human so that the
human could have a model and then freely accept God’s grace.
Origen believes Christ appears to man as man and angel as angel so
as to directly influence their existence. From now, the human being
has that direct connection to God through the fusion of Jesus with
the logos of his Middle-Platonic upbringing. Origen uses the Greek
word charis which in English is translated into grace. In the Chris-
tian tradition the role of grace cannot be underestimated. It is the

41
Origen, Contra Celsum, 4.17.18; 4.18.33; 1.64.17; 1.64.24.

42
43 Ibid., 6.1.11.
44 Origen, Homilies on Hexaemeron, 12.4.
45 Origen, Commentary on Matthew 15.24. cf. Contra Celsum 3.41. cf.

word best associated with God’s Love. It is the love which God
generously gives us and we have the opportunity to accept freely.
Some scholarship exists probing whether Origen, in granting such a
significant role to freedom and volition, downplays the role of
grace. 46 This does not seem to be the case. What needs to be un-
derstood is that grace is the receptive quality of philanthropia. It is
the participatory aspect of God’s Love in which the human being
has the opportunity to say they do, in fact, love God. You must
remember, the human being is here in this world because he or she
chose to love themselves over God. This sort of decision, especial-
ly with an amplified notion of the free choice of intelligences like
ours, is paramount.
Placing an importance on freedom in our choice to love God
is also reflected in his casting of virtue. He says, ‘to destroy volun-
tariness of virtue is to destroy its essence’. 47 This is spoken of in
relation to grace in the sense that if we do not voluntarily accept it
we may destroy the very character of such love. Origen knows
from agape that God’s love is ultimate. He also knows that sexual
love is divine eros. But most importantly he knows of the negative
experience of the human being. Origen knows of our limited state
and the existence of death. This is combated by philanthropia, which
is man’s love of humanity, but most importantly for Origen, God’s
love of humanity. Here, by grace, God offers love in another way.
He repeats Philo, another Alexandrian, in our dependence on grace
for our basic activities. Because of our volition, Origen says it ‘is in
our power whether we use [our God-given faculties] for good or
for bad’. 48 This is echoing his Platonic education, but also the He-
brew tradition, of a dual nature in humanity. Part of his anthropol-
ogy is the bestial nature of the soul and the battlefield taking place
for its seat at the throne of the heart.
There is one last notion of love which marks Origen’s system
and helps our understanding as a distinctly Christian theology.
Many of Origen’s pagan contemporaries and historical interlocu-
46 Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2404.

47 Origen, Contra Celsum, 4.3. cf. Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 2414.
48 Origen, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans 9.26. cf. Hunt,
‘Love,’ L 2425.
tors did not exactly have a rich prayer life. The prayer tradition Or-
igen sets out is widely influential in Christianity today. Especially in
the Eastern sects, Origen’s prayer life carried on through Evagrius
of Pontus all the way down the line. Most of his treatises begin
with prayers and he believes, most definitely, the point of prayer is
a means of being granted God’s grace. 49 Furthermore, it is for a
human ‘to become like God,’ as our angelic state is still made in the
divine image. 50 This is ultimately to cultivate ‘virtuous works from
part of prayer’. 51 Evagrius says, ‘The state of prayer is a condition
transcending material obsessions. In profound love it carries up the
spirit that loves wisdom to the heights of intelligible reality’. 52
Evagrius was very much influenced by Origen and considered the
ascent of the soul was especially enriched by a strong prayer life.
Origen says in the preface of On Prayer:
There are realities that are so great that they find a rank superi-
or to humanity and our mortal nature; they are impossible for
our rational and mortal race to understand. Yet by the grace of
God poured forth with measureless abundance from Him to
men through the minister of unsurpassed grace to us, Jesus
Christ, and through that fellow worker with the will of God,
the Spirit, these realities have become possible for us. 53
Most basically, prayer is a means towards uncovering the incorpo-
real ineffable Godhead by way of grace. This divine love manifest-
ed by grace is given to you freely so long as you rightly accept lov-
ing God. This is uniquely Christian and takes God’s philanthropia to
further ends than its early Greek instantiations or its later implica-
tions in 4thC statecraft. This love is highly involved. It is highly at-
tached as well. In contrast to his predecessor Clement, Origen be-
49Hunt, ‘Love,’ L 3819.

50Origen, Contra Celsum, 8.17.
51 Origen, Peri Euchus 12.2.
52 McGuckin, The Book of Mystical Chapters: Meditations on the Soul’s
(Shambhala, 2003), 41; 85.

Ascent from the Desert Fathers and Other Early Christian Contemplatives
53 Origen, An Exhortation to Martyrdom, Prayer and Selected Works
(Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1979), 81.

lieves the human being’s relationship to love is not apathetic. 54

Crouzel argues that for Origen ‘love … is superior to apathy. Hu-
mans do not seek their happiness in self-containment. As his doc-
trine of the image shows, persons have their center outside them-
selves. The saint, in a certain sense, is an impassioned person’. 55
Consider Origen’s notion of prayer as a direct antithesis of a dis-
passionate or disinterested love. It is, as Origen says, that ‘there
must always be fire burning on the altar’. 56
In his Commentary on the Song of Songs, Prologue 2, the symbol
of fire describes the dynamics of heat and light for the broader idea
of Love. ‘We will be kindled with the blessed fire of his love’ and
the ‘spiritual love of the soul [cannot] flame out’. 57 The fiery pas-
sion Origen describes is common to his anthropology; in that it is
by this we are driven or ordered towards God. He exclaims, ‘We
can allow ourselves to be set on fire with saving love!’ Grace is a
saving love which is, by God’s love of humanity, gifted for you to
freely accept so that you might love God too. 58 But in order for
this to happen, you must allow for it to happen. God’s loving-
kindness of humanity is, in a big way, developed thoroughly
through a form of mimesis. Much like how the New Testament
shows philanthropia being of two kinds, the idea of grace allows for
us to follow in the sort of saving love which is definitely not pre-
sent in Hellenistic philosophy.
Origen’s soteriology is another highly controversial area of his
thought. Much like his Christology, it is because of ultimate impli-
cations. He grants the logos fused with the man we call Jesus Christ,
but it is all symbolic of the ineffable Godhead. It was because of
our cooling from God that Jesus incarnated in history. This was
done because God loves humanity and wants humanity to love
God as well. God loves creation and creation, by its design, loves
God. Human beings, as free intelligences, chose to rebel against
54 Zona, ‘Set Love in Order in Me,’ footnote 56.

55 Henri Crouzel, Théologie de l’image de Dieu chez Origène (Paris: Aubier,
1956), 243–44.
56 McGuckin, The Book of Mystical Chapters, p. 68.
57 Zona, ‘Set Love in Order in Me,’ 158.
58 Ibid.
God and were cast into this material state. Though God is incorpo-
real, Jesus incarnated in flesh and blood yet still shared in the divine
nature of the logos. What Jesus did is allow for the entrance of
God’s grace into this world so that intelligent beings would freely
choose to once again love God. They would return to their angelic
status one by one and, at the end of time, God would be All in All.
This is a positive summary of Origen’s historical arc, but what it
leaves out is one controversial subject: is God’s Love so great that
even Satan is saved in the end?
It would seem Origen leaves room for Satan’s salvation at the
end of history in a sense. 59 What his soteriology implies is that God
loves all creation, including Satan, the first of his created beings
who rebelled and cooled. But Satan, free to do what he wills, does
not wish to turn away from his own desires and back towards God.
So, whether Satan is saved in the end is actually up to him. 60 God
loves all of creation and, though the apokatastasis implies an end in
which 1=1, it seems there may still be difference with Satan should
he not choose to accept God’s Love. God’s Love is embedded into
the soteriology not only of humanity but of the cosmic structure of
reality. At the end of history, God will have saved all humans and,
if Satan so chooses, him as well. To say what that looks like is up to
God. Remember what Origen says, we are treading dangerous wa-
ters when we speak of God, even when it is true.
THE RESTITUTION OF CHRISTIAN LOVE

The Christian tradition owes a tremendous debt to Origen on the
idea of Love. At a time when the Christian religion was burgeon-
ing, Origen helped tame the dominant Middle-Platonic tradition in
expressively Christian language with considerable Christian influ-
ence. He was not merely dressing Platonic ideas in Christian words,
but developing those ideas in the very light of Christ’s incarnation
as the logos. This was perhaps the most central element of Love to
Origen, as it instigated his privilege of the term philanthropia and,
59Lisa Holliday, ‘Will Satan be Saved? Reconsidering Origen’s

Theory of Volition in Peri Archon,’ Vigiliae Christianae 3 (2009): 1–23.
60 Origen, Peri Archon 1.8.3. cf. Holliday, ‘Will Satan be Saved?’ 3.
particularly, how caused the incarnation which leads to God’s

grace. Hellenistic notions of an ascending erotic love and Christian
notions of the ultimate agapic God who is Love were positively syn-
thesized against a negative backdrop of sin. Sin is solved by God’s
philanthropia resulting in attainable grace. Love is, in a large way, one
of the major identifiable themes motivating Origen’s entire system-
atic theology and his conception of a good Christian prayer life.
Studying Origen on Love is a difficult task and this particular
article is not exhaustive. In fact, it hardly scrapes the surface. All of
the documents used were translated in English, so the word Love
itself is flimsy at best. Having been translated from caritas and amor
we are still dealing with mistranslations of agape and eros which, in
fact, Origen used less frequently. Being that Origen favored the
word philanthropia and from that the idea of grace we are faced with
the problem of uncovering what that might mean and why he may
have done that. We observed several forces outside of Origen’s
own thinking as well as its usage and context in his own system.
With Origen it proved useful to analyze several different sources.
From the past, looking at Plato, Aristotle, and Middle-Platonic no-
tions of eros and philia was helpful. His contemporaries or near con-
temporaries like Plotinus and Clement also helped us clarify the
direction love might have been moving in people around him. Af-
ter his time, looking at Evagrius of Pontus, Pseudo-Dionysius, and
some of the Emperors engaging in 4thC statecraft helped to under-
stand philia, philanthropia, as well as prayer life. This by no means
actually seals Origen’s own understanding of these concepts but
hopefully contextualizes them so that we can move forward in un-
covering the depths of his meaning.
Love is central to the Christian tradition and serves as a posi-
tive platform for analyzing Origen’s work. But it will take diligent
study of the influences on him as well as those influenced by him
to uncover truly how Love operates in such a rich and complicated
theology. This system’s tremendous impact on Christianity cannot
be overstated and therefore it proves logical to take his understand-
ing on such a central theme as paramount to the Church at large.
Though Origen has been a controversial figure in the past, there
has never been such an open environment to look at his work seri-
ously, in spite of the fact few scholars actually do so. If we look at
Origen directly as a crossroads of Hellenistic and Christian
thought, influenced by Egyptian and Hebrew culture, we will find
one of the most complicated and rich philosophies of love existing

today. Origen believes we are all angels who have cooled from con-
templation of God. We have been invited by the grace of God to
ignite with fiery passion in ascension towards his Love because, tru-
ly, God Loves you. As we know, a good starting point is that Ori-
gen believes everyone loves something. 61 Let us start with the fact
Origen loves God. Origen himself starts with the fact God Loves
humanity.
61 Zona, 1999.
FAKHRUDDIN ‘IRAQI’S DIVINE
THE REFLEXIVITY OF LOVE IN
F LASHES AND ST. SYMEON THE NEW

THEOLOGIAN’S H YMNS OF DIVINE
E ROS
ZACHARY UGOLNIK
This paper will compare the theme of reflection in Fakhruddin
‘Iraqi’s (1213–1289) Divine Flashes and St. Symeon the New Theo-
logian’s (949–1022) Hymns of Divine Eros. In both pieces of litera-
ture we find a profound reflexivity between the beloved and lover.
‘Iraqi describes this relationship through the image of the mirror,
where the distinction between seer and seen dissolves and there is
neither beloved nor lover, only God. Symeon often describes the
relationship between the beloved (as Christ) and the lover (himself)
through the imagery of a sun and the lamp within the soul that the
sun ignites. Symeon’s encounter is a personal and participatory re-
lationship, predicated upon incarnational theology, where Symeon
retains his individuality, despite, at times, suggestions of self-
annihilation. Conversely, individuality dissolves in ‘Iraqi’s encoun-
ter, predicated upon the Sufi metaphysics of oneness of being, de-
spite, at times, suggestions of a certain distinction. This paper will
argue in both encounters, however, there is a profound interplay
between the beloved and the lover where each reflects the other.
This reflexivity includes, to certain degrees, a conflation of percep-
tion – a fruitful model we can apply to our own encounters of love.
Both authors use light imagery to express this relationship though
each employs the imagery in very different ways.
223
224 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
CONTEXTUAL FRAMES
St. Symeon the New Theologian was born in Galatia, Asia Minor,
in 949. He moved to Constantinople to pursue a political career,
but saw his career decline as the young Emperor Basil II came to
power. At the age of thirty, in 977, he became an abbot of Saint
Mamas Monastery but clashed with a number of his monks and
imperial powers. He was exiled in 1009 and spent his remaining
years across the Bosporus, rebuilding the monastery of Saint Mari-
na.
McGuckin dates the writing of Hymns between the years 1003
until Symeon’s death in 1022. 1 St. Gregory of Nazianzus’ autobio-
graphical poems, Concerning his own Life, Concerning His Own Affairs,
and Lament Over the Sufferings of His Soul, perhaps influenced Symeon
to write about himself in a similar fashion. McGuckin, however,
describes the genre of the Hymns, as closer to the secular form of
Erokita, or ‘Love Songs.’ 2 A number of the hymns demonstrate a
dialogue between Symeon and Christ, modeled after the Patristic
understanding of the Canticle of Canticle, where the soul addresses
the Beloved. In Gregory of Nyssa’s commentary of the Canticle, the
soul becomes a mirror of the Beloved, perhaps influencing
Symeon’s own imagery. Symeon, however, describes the union
with Christ in personal terms not yet seen in the Byzantine tradi-
tion.
Symeon shares with Gregory of Nazianzus and St. John the
Evangelist the title of ‘Theologian.’ As the ‘New Theologian’ he
synthesizes the light spirituality of Origen, Gregory of Nazianzus,
and Pseudo-Dionysius with an emphasis on the sensibility (aisthesis)
of this light in the heart, echoed within the Syrian school of Isaac
of Nineveh as well as Gregory of Nyssa. 3 For this reason, as well as
the profoundly personal account Symeon provides of religious ex-
perience, Divine Eros provides an ideal piece of literature to com-
1 McGuckin, J.A., ‘Symeon the New Theologian’s Hymns of Divine

Eros: A Neglected Masterpiece of the Christian Mystical Tradition.’ Spiritus
5 (2005): 182–202, p. 187.
2 McGuckin, ‘Symeon,’ p. 196.
THE REFLEXIVITY OF LOVE 225
pare to ‘Iraqi’s Divine Flashes, a piece of literature, which for its own
part, occupies a unique place in Sufi tradition.
‘Iraqi was a Persian poet born in the ancient city of Hamadan,
who spent a number of years in India, as well as in Konya and
Toqat in present day Turkey. As a contemporary of both Ibn ‘Ara-
bi and Jalaluddin Rumi, he was associated with the Muhyiddin Ibn
‘Arabi school of Sufism and was well versed in the Persian school
of Sufism. ‘Iraqi’s originality consists in his synthesis of the meta-
physics of the Unity of Being (wahdat al-wujud), found in the school
of Ibn ‘Arabi, including ‘Iraqi’s master Qunawi, and the description
of Ultimate Reality as Love, found in the writings of Ahmad Ghaz-
ali (d. 1126). 4
‘Iraq’s Divine Flashes includes twenty-seven flashes, or chap-
ters, and is written in both Persian prose and verse, some quoted
from other Sufi writers, some original. ‘Iraqi composed it as a
complete piece of literature, opposed to Symeon’s Hymns, which
the Abbot Niketas Stethatos complied thirty years after Symeon’s
death. 5
The Hymns of the Divine Eros, which contains fifty-eight hymns
ranging from seven to eight hundred and fifty-eight lines (nearly
11,000 verses in total), 6 uses three types of verse: a meter of eight
syllables per line; twelve syllables per line; and fifteen syllables per
line. A few of the hymns contain a mixed meter of all these types,
but the majority of the hymns are constructed using fifteen sylla-
bles per line, a form which came to later dominant Greek poetry.
PERFECT MAN AND GOD-MAN

‘Iraqi begins the prologue of Divine Flashes with the traditional, ‘In
the Name of God, Merciful and Compassionate,’ and continues:
‘Praise belongs to God Who made effulgent the face of His Friend
4 See ‘Iraqi, F. Divine Flashes. Translation and introduction by William

Chittick and Peter Wilson. Preface by Seyyed Nasr. (New York, NY: Pau-
list Press, 1982), p. 6.
6 McGuckin, ‘Symeon,’ p. 187; St. Symeon the New Theologian. Divine
Eros: Hymns of the New Theologian. Translation and Introduction by Daniel K.

Griggs (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2010), p. 17.
226 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
Muhammad with Beauty’s theophanies, that It sparkled with light.’ 7

Immediately we are given an image of Mohammed’s transfigured
face, imbued with ‘Beauty’s theophanies,’ lest anyone be confused
‘Iraqi is referring to an incarnation, an issue he will elaborate more
on later. He establishes Mohammed and his revelation as the su-
preme theophany of the divine, where Mohammed exclaims: ‘The
Divine Names bear their fruit in me. Look: I am the mirror of the
shining Essence.’ 8 ‘Iraqi presents Mohammed as the model of the
Perfect Man, an ideology predominant in the school of Ibn ‘Arabi.
The first verse of the prologue, speaking in the voice of Moham-
med, reads:
Truly in form
I am Adam’s son –
And yet
Within Adam himself
lies a secret –
My secret –
that testifies:
I am his father!
(Ibn al-Farid) 9
In the non-temporal age of pre-creation, Mohammed was the first
created man and the last to be born as the fulfillment of all proph-
ets. Mohammad is the exemplar of the Perfect Man, and through
his revelation allows humanity to realize their own oneness of be-
ing with the divine and experience the annihilation of the self (fana)
so that they too may reflect the divine. The Perfect Man, when en-
visioned in the prophet Mohammed, in ‘Iraqi’s words, ‘is both the
niche and goal of the ecstatic wanderer, and the very ecstasy in his
7 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, p. 69. All translations of Divine Flashes cited

from Chittick and Wilson, 1982. For the Persian text see Fakhr al-Dīn
Ibrāhīm ‘Iraqi and Muhammad Khvājavī. Lama‘āt (Tehran: Intishārāt-i
Mawlá, 1984).
8 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, p. 70.
9 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, p. 69–70.
breast.’ 10 ‘Iraqi’s notion of the Perfect Man demonstrates a number

of parallels with the Christian notion of the Logos.
The Logos however is God (the second person of the trinity),
not a supreme reflection, a point we will see later in Symeon. For
the sake of this comparison a better-suited counterpart for the Per-
fect Man would be the Greek term theoanthropos, or God-Man, that
is the Logos incarnate. Christ, the God-Man, as the Logos made
flesh, allows man to be defied through imitating his nature.
Symeon’s religious experience is framed upon this possibility of
imitation.
After a prefatory prayer invoking the Holy Spirit, in the first
line of Hymn one Symeon poses the question: ‘What is this spine-
chilling mystery that is being accomplished in Me?’ He answers,
also beginning his piece in praise: ‘In no way can a word recount,
nor can my miserable hand write to the praise and glory of Him is
who is above Praise, of Him who is beyond telling.’ 11 After estab-
lishing the apophatic nature of the Divine, and the idleness of at-
tempting to describe it, he qualifies his words with the following
solution: ‘It seems to me that the totality is seen Not all at once in
its essence, but by participation.’ 12 Symeon plays with the similari-
ties between essence (ousia) and participation (metousia) in Greek. 13
His hymns then go on, at length, to describe this experience of par-
ticipation.
‘Iraqi, on the other hand, after praising Mohammed, writes of
his intent: ‘a few words explaining the way stations of Love … I
shall dictate theme as a mirror to reflect every lover’s Beloved.’ 14

11 St. Symeon the New Theologian. Divine Eros: Hymns of the New
Theologian. Translation and Introduction by Daniel K. Griggs. (Crestwood,
NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2010). Hymn I: Lines 1–4, p. 35. All
translations of Divine Eros cited from this edition.
12 Symeon, Divine Eros, I: 28–29, p. 36.
13 For the Greek text see Syméon le Nouveau Théologien. Hymnes 1–15.
Vol 1. Sources Chrétiennes 156. Introduction, text, and notes by Johannes

Koder. French translation by Joseph Paramelle (Paris: Éditions du Cerf,
1969), p. 158.
228 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
His words then do not describe Love itself, which is too ‘exalted
for us to gaze upon its real beauty with eye unveiled and vision di-
rect,’ 15 but rather the stations, or states, of love experienced by the
lover and the Beloved.
REFLECTING DIVINE EMANATION

‘Iraqi presents the divine through the construct of God as Love ‘in
the tradition of The Sparks,’ 16 as he puts it, a work by Ahmad Ghaz-
ali, brother of the more famous Abu Hamid Ghazali. He writes in
flash one: ‘Love upon Its mighty throne is purified of all entifica-
tion, in the sanctuary of Its Reality too holy to be touched by in-
wardness of outwardness.’ 17 God is love and reigns in a reality of
unity beyond any human notions of ‘outward’ and ‘inward.’ But in
Love’s desire to be known: ‘It showed Itself to Itself in the look-
ing-glass of ‘lover’ and ‘Beloved.’’ 18 Through the looking glass of
these protagonists the divine ‘might behold therein Its Names and
Attributes.’ 19 This distinction between the divine and its Names
and Attributes (asma’wa sifat) allows the divine to retain its tran-
scendence while revealing the accessibility of its manifestations
through the reflection of the Beloved and the lover. Even the title
of ‘Iraqi’s work, Divine Flashes, suggests this ideology of divine em-
anation, similar to neo-Platonism. ‘Iraqi ends the first flash with a
quote from ‘Attar:
No other shows it face
for each thing that exists
Is the same as the One
come into manifestation 20
Symeon, at times, also suggests an emanation theory of creation,
though to a much lesser degree. In hymn thirty-five, he explains

17 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, I, p. 73.
that not even the higher heavenly orders can gaze upon the true
nature of the incomprehensible divine, rather:
But only the rays of glory
And an emanation of my light
Do they contemplate, and they are deified.
For like a mirror that
Has received the rays of the sun
Or like a crystalline stone
Illuminated in midday
So they all receive the rays
Of my divinity. 21
Symeon, here, is careful to keep the transcendence of God intact,
drawing a distinction between God’s nature, the supreme Godhead
as God the Father, and the light that He emits. This light Symeon
can contemplate and in turn reflect: ‘I see the beauty; I look at the
luster; I reflect the light of your grace.’ 22
However, at times, when describing his encounter with the
Logos, as the incarnate second person of the trinity, Symeon
speaks of reflection in derogatory terms. Referring to the Logos’
relationship with humanity, Symeon writes:
You converse with them as with friends,
Not in shadow, nor reflection,
Not like one mind to another mind,
But as the Logos Who is from the beginning. 23
The incarnate Logos, through taking on flesh, has already estab-
lished itself as the intermediary between God and man, and thus
does not require a medium of reflection when encountering hu-
manity. The pairing of ‘shadow’ and ‘reflection’ is evocative of
Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: ‘For now we see in a mirror, dimly
(ainigmati), but then we will see face to face.’ 24 This verse can be
understood as a contrast between a mirror and a face-to-face en-
21 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXXV: 52–60, p. 272.

22 Symeon, Divine Eros, II: 18–19, p. 44.
23 Symeon, Divine Eros, LIII: 31–34, p. 373.
24 1 Corinthians 13:12.
230 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
counter, but also as a movement from a murky mirror to an ever-

clearer mirror, where a face becomes visible. In either case we find
already in Paul a high degree of reflexivity in this encounter, as he
continues his verse: ‘For I know only in part; then I will know fully,
even as I have been fully known.’ 25 Christian imagery of reflection,
from Gregory of Nyssa to St. Symeon, is in large part an exegesis
of Paul. Through the incarnation, Christ closes the gap between
man and God, enlightening the shadows between us through as-
suming human form. This image you can gaze upon and encounter
face to face, in Symeon’s words, ‘in proportion to the purification
of your soul.’ 26 Most importantly, for Symeon, it is a personal en-
counter made possible by the incarnation. Christ as the God-Man
and ourselves as made in his image. For this reason, we move from
encountering a dim reflection to a beaming face, a face that we, in
turn, can reflect.
When Symeon asks the Logos why he became Flesh, we find
the most explicit reference to an emanation theory of creation, as
the logos replies: ‘Because, like I said, I created Adam to look upon
Me.’ 27 In Symeon’s cosmology, elaborated more systematically his
collection of homilies titled The First-Created Man, creation and in-
carnation are intrinsically connected. Adam sinned and did not re-
pent, 28 thus becoming mortal, and was no longer able to gaze upon
25 A consideration of Symeon’s Ethical Discourses may be useful here.

Symeon poses the following question in reference to Paul: ‘Where or in
what place or part of the body does he say that Christ takes form?’
Symeon answers: ‘It is rather inside, in our hearts. The one who has Christ
take form within himself … sees His formation within himself. Christ is
not, for example, reflected like the light of a lamp in a mirror, is not an
apparition without substance like the reflection, but appears in a light
which is personal and substantial.’ St. Symeon the New Theologian. On the
Mystical Life: The Ethical Discourses. Translation and Introduction by Alex-
ander Golitzin. (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1995). Vol.
I: X, p. 169.
26 Symeon, Divine Eros, XLIV: 119–120, p 319.
27 Symeon, Divine Eros, LIII: 205 – 207, p. 378.
28 For Symeon, it is Adam’s lack of humility and the fact that he did
not repent that banished him from the Garden of Eden, not the sin itself.
the Logos meandering through the Garden of Eden in His glory

(Gen 3:8). The Logos became incarnate so man once again can
gaze upon Him in the second Adam of Christ and be recreated in
his immortal image, a state attainable in this life yet fully realized in
the age to come. This is not a theology of atonement and a subse-
quent return to an original state, but a theology of deification and a
transformation into a new divine nature. In this sense, we can see
both the creation of Adam and the incarnation as leading towards
encounters. Thus, we can imagine the Logos could just as easily
say: ‘I became Adam to look upon Me.’
Christ provides the exemplar of a God-Man, as fully God and
fully man, that every human is called to imitate; Mohammed is the
exemplar of the Perfect Man, as the supreme reflection of divine
emanation. In Symeon, creation ‘reflects’ or realizes the nature of
Christ, as a deified man, while the triune God remains incompre-
hensible. In ‘Iraqi, creation reflects the Divine Names and Attrib-
utes, while God’s true nature, which is beyond human imagination
remains uncircumscribed in utter unity.
MIRRORS OF THEOPHANY AND INCARNATION

We do not find images of murky reflections in ‘Iraqi’s Divine Flash-
es, but there are instances where a reflection is considered inferior
to that which it reflects, often implied when discussing a reflection
of the divine Essence, rather than the Divine Names and Attrib-
utes. He writes of relationship between the sun and the moon: ‘The
sun shines in the moon’s mirror, but the moon contains naught of
the sun’s essence.’ 29 The moon, here, does not ‘contain’ the sun’s
essence, but reflects its light in one continuous ray. It would be a
mistake to confuse the moon for the sun, or consider the moon a
second sun. Here, we see the platonic understanding where an im-
age, or reflection, is inferior to that which it imitates. 30 To claim
such a degree of likeness in terms of the divine, such as ascribing
divine status to the prophet Jesus, would of course be polytheism.
29 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, III, p. 77.

30 See Plato’s Republic, Book VI.
232 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
In flash XI, indicative of ‘Iraqi’s familiarity with Christian the-

ology, ‘Iraqi uses the relationship between a mirror and the form it
reflects to discuss the distinction between an incarnation and a the-
ophany. His words speak best for themselves:
Know that between form and the mirror no true unification,
no ‘incarnation,’ can exist:
What a meddlesome bore,
the one who here confuses
Theophany
and ‘incarnation’! (Sana’i)
Unification and incarnation could take place between two es-
sences, but to contemplation’s eye there exists in all existence
but one Object of contemplation. 31
Incarnation, for ‘Iraqi, suggests an essence distinct from the God-
head and thus a multiplication of the divine. In terms of his analo-
gy, then, at first glance, a ‘form’ and the ‘mirror’ that reflects it are
two different things. However, this perspective assumes a degree of
separation between the two, when in actuality in ‘contemplation’s
eye’ there is only one essence in ‘all existence.’
Interestingly, it is here that ‘Iraqi equates unification and in-
carnation. Each, for ‘Iraqi, assume a prior separation that was in
fact never there. God can’t become incarnate in another, nor can
he be united to another, because there is no other than God. In the
prologue the voice of Love exclaims, ‘Since in all the world only I
exist above and below, no likeness of me can be found.’ 32 This par-
adox suggests that God is everything and thus within everything
there is nothing like him, and yet, because God is everything,
‘where ever you turn there is [His] Face,’ 33 as the famous verse of
Qur’an, quoted by ‘Iraqi, declares. A theophany, unlike an incarna-
tion, then, is a vision of this hidden Face, this attribute of God,
reflected in a universe that is composed of only Him. To return to
31 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, XI, p. 93.

33 ‘Where ever you turn, there is the Face of God,’ (II: 115), quoted
in ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, VIII, p. 88.

‘Iraqi’s analogy, a theophany would not be a unification of the

‘form’ and the ‘mirror,’ but a recognition of the singular essence
that pervades and transcends both. When Mohammed’s Face
shines, he is not being united to God, but is reflecting a unity that
already exists.
Symeon, however, describes such illuminations, or theopha-
nies, most often in terms of fire imagery and ‘participation’ rather
than reflection imagery and unity. Unlike the Divine Flashes, where
the reader seems to find images of mirrors and looking glasses on
every page, Symeon describes his religious experience predomi-
nantly through the images of the ‘sun’ and ‘lamp within the soul.’
We read in Hymn one:
It springs up in me from within my wretched
Heart like the sun or like the solar disc
Spherical, and showing itself radiant like a flame. 34
Symeon, of course, is careful to point out this light ‘remains both
undivided and in myself,’ 35 and ‘when you ignite something from a
fire you take the whole fire.’ 36 However, unlike the ribbon of a re-
flected light beam, fire imagery suggests more of an inherent sepa-
ration between the two entities. This chasm is linked in Symeon’s
cosmology and in Orthodox Christian theology to the advent of
mortality re-bonded through the incarnation. The igniting of the
soul – as light ‘springs up’ – imitates the incarnation of Christ,
while Symeon’s deification (theosis), which Symeon will describe
later, imitates Christ’s resurrection. Only because God became man
can man become God:
If the Logos God became human
Without knowing it, then I also in ignorance became
God as is fitting and reasonable to suppose. 37
This interplay between Symeon and Christ’s nature is the most
dominant image of reflexivity in his hymns. However, Symeon dis-
34 Symeon, Divine Eros, I: 38–40, p. 36.

35 Symeon, Divine Eros, I: 37, p. 36.
36 Symeon, Divine Eros, I: 30, p. 36.
37 Symeon, Divine Eros, L: 195–197, p 355.
234 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
tinguishes himself from Christ in that he merely ‘participates’ in the

divine, while Christ is the divine. Symeon can thus exclaim to God,
‘I truly partake of your essence,’ 38 and yet, on the other hand, can
provide the more qualified statement: ‘I have become fully God …
not in essence, but in participation. As it is necessary to think ac-
cording to orthodoxy.’ 39
Incarnation and theophany, for Symeon, do not suggest a plu-
rality of essences, but a single essence through which multiple iden-
tities, or persons, participate. This contradiction of unity and dis-
tinction is modeled after the theology of the Trinity. Symeon is
unique among Byzantine writers in describing his vision of the Ho-
ly Trinity as one prosopon: ‘For the three appeared to me, as in one
Face.’ 40 The Greek prosopon, can also be translated as countenance,
appearance, or person, yet is would be heresy to suggest a trinity of
a singular person, rather than the orthodox formula of one essence
(ousia) and three persons (hypostasis). However, Symeon is keen to
use the image of one face to suggest an encounter with a God,
multiple in personhood and beyond comprehension, yet singular
when encountered. The Christian notion of the person, or hyposta-
sis, and the theology of the trinity that is built upon it, allows for
this contradiction of unity and distinction. Christ is a singular hy-
postasis, one in essence with the Trinity; but he is double in nature
as divine and human.
Both writers utilize light imagery to accommodate these issues
of the one and the many. A theophany for Symeon is a transfor-
mation, through the presence of the Holy Spirit, into this divine-
human nature of Christ. A theophany for ‘Iraqi, however, is a vi-
sion of the divine already inherent in us, predicated upon the unity
of being (wahdat al-wujud). Symeon describes his illumination as an
upwelling, like a fire sparking a flame, imitating the incarnation of
Christ. ‘Iraqi’s illumination, such as the glow of Mohammed’s face
in his first line, is a reflection of the Divine Names and Attributes.
38 Symeon, Divine Eros, VII: 30–31, p 57.

39 Symeon, Divine Eros, L: 200–202, p. 355.
40 Symeon, Divine Eros, XII: 23, p. 69.
DOUBLE REFLECTIONS
The question still remains to what degree are these entities united
and in what ways do they experience unification? Both Symeon and
‘Iraqi are very concerned with the conflation of the human and the
divine. Each describes a unity between them though to different
degrees. In Symeon’s narratives of his deification we read some of
his most profound statements. In emulation of Christ’s bodily res-
urrection, Symeon’s own body is deified where every organ is unit-
ed with Christ, not excluding, we find at the end of his list, his
genitalia:
and each of our members shall be the whole of Christ.
For while we become many members He remains one and
Indivisible,
And each part is the whole Christ himself.
And so thus you well know that both are Christ: my finger and
my penis.
Do you tremble or feel ashamed?
But God was not ashamed to become like you,
Yet you are ashamed to become like Him? 41
Symeon’s transfiguration mimics the transfiguration of his Beloved.
‘He illuminates my face like that of the one I yearned for (Mat.
17.2), And all my members become bearers of light.’ 42 This process
can be thought of in two stages: illumination followed by deifica-
tion. The fact that this unification occurs within the container of
the body suggests retention of identities between Symeon and
Christ, though they share in the light that shines through them.
Symeon suggests ‘God become like you’ so ‘you can be like him’
(my italics). This is not a full union between beloved and lover,
where their identities no longer exist, but a relationship of emula-
tion and participation. However, despite the status of deification,
41 Symeon, Divine Eros, XV: 157–163, p. 87. Translation slightly al-

tered to reflect Greek word order, see Syméon le Nouveau Théologien. Hymnes.
Vol. 2. Hymn XV:160–161, p. 290.
42 Symeon, Divine Eros, XVI: 32–33, p. 93.
236 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
much like a sun and a lamp, Symeon and Christ do not exist as
equals. ‘Iraqi, too, is careful to not suggest a full equality with God:
Make no mistake
He who is lost
In God
is not God Himself 43
Here, we find in ‘Iraqi, suggestions of identity retention. The lover
cannot identify as God, but can identity as the Beloved, that is, in
union with God’s emanations. In the encounter between the Be-
loved and the lover the distinction between self and other begins to
conflate. ‘Iraqi ’s language in the Divine Flashes, where it becomes
difficult to distinguish between pronouns, mimics this problem of
identity:
‘I’ and ‘you’
have made of man a two-ness.
Without these words, you are I
and I am you. 44
This ‘two-ness,’ however, is an illusion and the self must not identi-
fy with the other or with itself but must be completely annihilated
(fana). Describing the self in terms of a city, ‘Iraqi writes:
‘Let there be in this city
but you … or ME
for no government can survive
a double kingship!’ 45
‘So … begone!,’ he writes, ‘When God’s river overflows, Jesus Riv-
er disappears.’ 46 In Jami’s commentary of Divine Flashes, he de-
scribes the Jesus River as ‘a stream near Baghdad which supplies
many farms with irrigation.’ 47 Jami claims this proverb is men-
43 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, XIV, p. 99.

44 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, XV, p. 105.
45 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, VIII, p. 89.
47 As quoted in Chittick and Wilson’s footnotes in ‘Iraqi, Divine
Flashes, p. 128.
tioned after heavy rains cause the Tigris to overflow into these
farms. Just as this stream disappears when the waters of the Tigris
subsume the banks that contain it, the self disappears when united
with God. In addition, we can understand this proverb as a refer-
ence to the annihilation of the personhood of Jesus within the
Godhead, a philosophy anathema to Christians, who recite in the
Nicene Creed that his ‘Kingdom shall have no end.’
Christ always maintains his personhood within the Trinity,
and Symeon, too, when united with Christ maintains his identity.
Yet, this unity in distinction is a mystery realized, not necessarily
explained, and for that reason, Symeon struggles for the words to
express it, a technique McGuckin describes as ‘stammering theolo-
gy’ 48:
Nevertheless, I and He
To Whom I was united, have become one.
So what shall I call myself?
The God Who is double in nature,
Who is one hypostasis
Has rendered me double 49
His verses beat like a drum, reaching out for analogies and pushing
the reader with shocking statements that verge on the edge of or-
thodoxy, mimicking in a sense, the ecstasy that nearly implodes the
structure of the self yet operates within its bounds. Like ‘Iraqi,
Symeon speaks of union and duality, but this duality is not an illu-
sion but an expression of his participation with the nature of Christ
as both man and God. Through this union, Symeon is transformed
from a singular human state to a dual human and divine state in
emulation of Christ’s double nature. Symeon as Man-God reflects
Christ as God-Man.
However each exists as a singular hypostasis, or person.
Symeon uses the terms God and Christ interchangeably, since each
are one is essence yet exist as different entities within the Holy
Trinity. What he can ascribe to Christ he can ascribe to God, thus

49 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXX: 447–452, p 243.
238 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
in Hymn twenty-five he can address God as two, referring to

Christ’s human and divine nature:
Now listen, I tell you the awesome things of the double God,
And the things that happened to me as to a double person!
…
So on the one hand as a human I know that I see nothing of
the divine,
Since I am completely separated from invisible things,
But by adoption I have become God,
And I perceive, and I become a participant in sacred realities. 50
Symeon’s dual nature allows him to experience these ‘sacred reali-
ties.’ Symeon often refers to this state of union as ‘alone with the
Alone,’ 51 which can perhaps be interpreted an annihilation of the
self within the Godhead. Yet Symeon’s personhood, despite its full
union with the divine, is never rendered into complete singularity.
The very notion of Hypostasis, that is, what ‘lies beneath,’ or ‘un-
derpinning,’ was developed to express the paradox of the Holy
Trinity where shared essences operate in multiple identities. For
Symeon, unity with God is ontologically a relational union, rather
than a union of no distinction. This allows him to declare: ‘One
who has been united to God is not alone even if they are solitary
(Jn 8:16).’ 52 For Symeon, this continual presence of the divine with-
in the self and thus a state of duality with God is the goal of divine
eros. For ‘Iraqi, this duality – even in union – must be expunged.
UNITY OF PERCEPTION
Both writers describe a conflation of perception between the be-
loved and the lover, though to different degrees and at different
stages along the mystical path. For ‘Iraqi, this experience draws
from the philosophy of unity of being, which can also be translated
unity of perception. For Symeon, it draws from the incarnation and
Symeon’s emphasis on the sensibility (aisthesis) of the Holy Spirit.
50 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXV: 62–63; 72–75, p. 196–197.

51 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXVII: 74, p. 206.
52 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXVII: 22, p. 205.
For both writers, this encounter occurs externally and inter-

nally, all around us and in our hearts. Symeon asks Christ: ‘How do
I observe You in myself, and see You in heaven?’ 53 In Symeon,
there is often a movement from an ecstatic vision of external light
to a state where the light dwells within his heart, though this expe-
rience is often conflated:
Nevertheless I see You as a sun and I look at You like a star,
And I bear You in my bosom, just like a pearl,
And I see You as a lamp in an earthen vessel. 54
Christ is often described as the ‘sun that never sets’ while Symeon’s
illuminated soul is described as a lamp. Through purifying his soul
and empting himself (kenosis), the light he emits is the light of
Christ: ‘He made me like a fire, and made me like light, and I be-
came that which I had seen before and contemplated from afar.’ 55
We can agree that Symeon finds Christ within his heart and
through deification sees himself as Christ’s reflection, but it would
be wrong to suggest that Christ reflects the perfection of Symeon
along parallel lines. However, Christ is after all an incarnation, and
thus God has already assumed the form of humanity in his encoun-
ter with humanity. In this sense, Christ’s incarnation can be
thought of as God reflecting man.
‘Iraqi’s encounter, however, between the Beloved and lover
demonstrates a much higher degree of reciprocal interaction. Like
Symeon, ‘Iraqi writes of encountering the Beloved externally as
well as seeing the reflection of the Beloved within the heart. One of
his more advanced states of union is the point where the Beloved,
referred to here as the ‘Friends Face,’ becomes a mirror of the lov-
er and vice-versa:
Without cease
gazing into the purity
Of the Friend’s face, he sees the universe
imaged in his own reality
53 Symeon, Divine Eros, VII: 2, p. 56.

54 Symeon, Divine Eros, XLII: 85–87, p. 305.
55 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXX: 429–433, p. 243.
240 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
And if he once looks back

into the chamber of his heart
He finds there like a blazing sun
the sweet face of his heart-thief. 56
Chittick and Wilson in their commentary suggest ‘Iraqi is describ-
ing a state, known in the school of Ibn ‘Arabi, as ‘All-
Comprehensiveness of All-Comprehensive’ (jam‘ al-jam‘) or ‘Two
Bows’ Length’ (qab qawsayn), a state second only to utter unity
(ahadiyyat al-jam‘). 57 On the one hand, God reflects man’s perfec-
tion, while on the other hand, man sees himself as a reflection of
God. Two lower states correspond to these characteristics, through
which the higher state is realized. In the first state, God becomes a
means through which man perceives reality, thus, as ‘Iraqi writes:
‘Sometimes the Beloved Himself becomes the lover’s sight.’ 58 ‘Iraqi
quotes the following hadith often attributed to this state: ‘I-God-
become his ears, his eyes, his hand and his tongue.’ 59 In the second
state, man becomes a means through which God acts, and thus,
‘Sometimes the lover becomes the Beloved’s voice,’ 60 alluding to
the hadith, ‘God says with the tongue of his servant.’ 61 Throughout
the Flashes, the lover seems to be inviting this experience, lament-
ing:
Come inhabit my eyes
and gaze on Him. 62
The Beloved inhabits the eyes of lover and the lover inhabits the
eyes of the Beloved. If perceiving reality through divine perception
can be described at all, it can be described as a self-referential vi-
sion. To look through the eyes of the Beloved is to see the Be-
56 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, VI, p. 83.

57 See commentary in ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, p. 137–138.
59 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, VII, p. 87.
61 As quoted in commentary in ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, p. 139.
loved; Divine perception is the perception of the Divine. For ‘Iraqi,

this is a vision of utter unity:
I witnessed in You
a reality which transcends
My multiplicity, and through which
seer and seen are united. 63
Cornelia A. Tsakiridou in her eloquent comparison ‘Theophany
and Humanity in Symeon the New Theologian and Abu Hamid
Ghazali,’ from which this article is in debt, argues that ‘in al-
Ghazali theophany is a reflection in the heart of an abstract super-
rational luminance,’ 64 contrasted by Symeon’s personal and bodily
communion. Though this may be true of al-Ghazali, in my reading
of ‘Iraqi the continual emphasis on the conflation of senses be-
tween man and God, and thus seer and seen, is a device through
which the divine is rendered relatable and man, in turn, is trans-
formed.
For Symeon, of course, this is achieved through the incarna-
tion. We can briefly turn to Gregory of Nazianzus to better under-
stand the role of incarnation in Symeon’s religious experience. In
Gregory’s famous letter to Cledonius he writes: ‘The unassumed is
the unhealed, but what is united with God is also being saved.’ 65
Christ assumed a soul and body so he could suffer and die as a
human in order to save humanity from death. Humanity, then,
through imitating Christ’s humility and purifying their soul can as-
sume the divinity of Christ and participate in his perceptions. For
Symeon, this is primarily a union of the mind, or nous, achieving a
state of dispassion (apatheia), where worldly perceptions no longer
have appeal. The following verses link these concepts and merit an
extended quote:
63 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, IX, p. 90.

64 Tsakiridou, C. A. ‘Theophany and Humanity in St. Symeon the
New Theologian and Abu Hamid Al-Ghazali.’ International Journal of
Orthodox Theology 2:3 (2011): 167–187. p 167.
65 St. Gregory of Nazianzus. The Five Theological Orations and Two Let-
ters to Cledonius. Translated by Frederick Williams and Lionel Wickham.

(Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2002). Epistle 101, p. 158.
242 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
For the mind is plunged into your light,

And made bright, and transformed into light
Similar to your glory, and is called your mind,
And the one who has been deemed worthy to become like this
Is then also deemed worthy to posses your mind, (Rom. 11:34)
And they become inseparably one with You.
How then does such a one not see like You do, and not hear
All things dispassionately? And how would one who
Has become God yearn at all for anything perceptible,
Or for any transient and perishable reality, or an glory,
When they are above all these
And beyond all visible glory? 66
To see and hear like Christ is to see and hear dispassionately and
yearn only for what is eternal. Throughout his hymns, Symeon em-
phasizes this state of apatheia, where worldly temptations no longer
have any sensory appeal, but the mind is concentrated only on the
divine, like ‘gods seeing God.’ 67 Symeon’s Hymns also express a
conflation of the seer and seen, as he pronounces ‘Alone I see Him
seeing me,’ 68 yet identities remain inexplicably intact. Symeon’s en-
counter remains at this stage, where the Beloved and the lover par-
ticipate in each other’s sensory experiences. However, for ‘Iraqi, as
we shall see, even the unity of perception dissolves.
CONCLUSION: REFLECTING EMPTINESS

Symeon is unique in that he demonstrates glimmers of repentance
(metanoia) even amidst his highest stages of deification. In the blind-
ing light of illumination and union, he realizes his own impurity, as
he wails:
…I say that this soul
Sees the light shine within,
And perceives that it was
66 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXXIX: 61–72, p. 287.

67 Symeon, Divine Eros, XV: 108, p. 85.
68 Symeon, Divine Eros, XXX: 410, p 242.
In a most terrible darkness. 69

In contradictory terms, the more one approaches the light, the
darker the abyss in the self, where God cannot yet be found, ap-
pears. Even to the point, where Symeon explains: ‘One sees oneself
in hell, I mean compared to the brilliance of the light.’ 70 Repent-
ance, in this sense, is purification and can be interpreted as a means
of self-emptying (kenosis). This constant reminder of humility in
midst of glorification balances the interplay between Symeon and
Christ, where ‘I’ of the penitent is retained. Symeon’s fire imagery
suggests this type of annihilation. The self, tied to temporal pas-
sions, is burned and remade in the mold of divine light. Just as the
‘sun never sets,’ this process never ceases.
As we have seen the theme of reflexivity between the beloved
and lover plays an important role in both works of literature, and
resonates with each writer’s respective theological tradition. ‘Iraqi
relies on the model of the Perfect Man, where perfection and the
polishing of the self, allows man to be the supreme reflection of
the Divine Names and Attributes. Symeon relies on the theology of
the incarnate Logos as the God-Man that allows the lover to partic-
ipate in the Beloved’s divinity. ‘Iraqi’s relationship depends on a
theory of divine emanation, while Symeon’s relationship merely
suggests it. Both struggle with issues of unity and distinction, but
Symeon through incarnational and Trinitarian models portrays a
relationship of a singular essence through which multiple identities
participate. In this encounter, Symeon embraces his human-divine
nature in likeness of Christ’s dual nature and at their intersection,
Symeon participates in Christ’s perceptions. Christ, as the Beloved,
however is God and thus will be an eternally distinct identity. ‘Ira-
qi’s Beloved and lover also demonstrate a unity of perception, but
on a much more reciprocal level leading to a point where the iden-
tities of each become utterly conflated. The final words of ‘Iraqi’s
Divine Flashes, like the last fluttering flames of a fire, echo this anni-
hilation of both the Beloved and the lover:
‘When shall we

244 ZACHARY UGOLNIK
divorce ourselves?
You and I gone
and only God remain?’ 71
This dual reading of Symeon and ‘Iraqi has attempted to bring the
writers in conversion with one another and to achieve, to a certain
degree, a mutual perception of the two. Love, for both writers is
the stuff of eternity. Beyond reading Symeon and ‘Iraqi as models
for how to love God, if we can substitute their Beloved, for our
own beloved and people we encounter every day, then among oth-
er things, we hear a reminder to see through the eyes of those we
love and to lose a part of our selves in that seeing. Love demands
an emptying. Through this constant cycle of love, compassion, and
repentance we can begin to set aside the selfish aspects of our per-
sonality so that we can begin to perceive love and eternity in and
through all creation, so that we can perceive those we have never
met as those we love dearly. The Beloved is an icon of all humani-
ty.
71 ‘Iraqi, Divine Flashes, XXVIII, p. 127.

THE TIME HAS COME:
THE WHY AND THE HOW OF
BRINGING CHANGE TO THE
POSTPARTUM RITES OF THE
ORTHODOX CHURCH
CARRIE FREDERICK FROST

‘O Master, Lord Almighty … Do Thou Thyself heal also
this handmaid, Name, who today has given birth and raise
her from the bed on which she lies. For, according to the
words of Prophet David, in sins were we conceived, and all
are defiled before Thee.’
‘purify her from uncleanness’ and ‘cleanse her from bodily
uncleanness and the various afflictions of her womb.’
‘…and forgive this, Thy handmaid, Name, and the whole
household into which this infant has been born, and all who
have touched her, and all here present; forgive all of them.’ 1
‘Purify her … from every sin and from every defilement as
she now draws near to Thy Holy Church; and let her to be
counted worthy to partake, uncondemned, of Thy Holy
Mysteries.’
1 ‘Prayers on the First Day after a Woman Has Given Birth to a

Child.’ The Great Book of Needs, Vol. 1. (South Canaan, PA: St. Tikhon’s
Seminary Press, 2000), 3–5.
245
246 CARRIE FREDERICK FROST
‘O Lord our God … come also upon Thy servant, Name,

and count her worthy … of entrance into the temple of Thy
Glory. Wash away her bodily and spiritual uncleanness, in
the completion of the forty days. Make her worthy also of
the communion of Thy precious Body and Blood.’ 2
These words come from two rites of the Orthodox Church. The
first three lines are an excerpt from the ‘Prayers on the First Day
after a Woman has Given Birth to a Child,’ or the ‘First Day’ pray-
ers, which are prayed by a priest in the hospital or at home soon
after birth. The latter two lines are from the ‘Prayers for a Woman
on the Fortieth Day of Childbirth,’ or the ‘Churching’ rite, which
takes place on or around the fortieth day after childbirth, when a
woman first returns to church with her newborn. I begin with these
excerpts in order to clearly see their language and consider its theo-
logical meaning and consequences.
The suggestions about the mother – ‘defiled,’ ‘unclean,’ ‘un-
worthy’ – jar modern ears. They chafe against the developed-world
understanding of childbirth as a healthy and natural biological pro-
cess that has nothing to do with purity. The situation of these rites
among Orthodox in the United States is varied: often they are
abandoned entirely, some priests still celebrate them while chang-
ing them on the fly, and sometimes these rites are celebrated in the
tongue of the old country, so the exclusively English-speaking
mother simply does not have to hear them. Occasionally these rites
are being explained, but in wildly inconsistent ways.  
In an Orthodox setting, rites can and should make demands
on the faithful, so those of us who are piqued by this language
must determine if the reason for our reaction is our modern, de-
veloped-world preferences for comfort and ease over discomfort
and hermeneutical effort. We must ask, then, is this concept of im-
purity after childbirth theologically sound? In order to begin to
answer this question, I will offer a very quick tour of the history
and theology of these rites.
2‘Prayers for a Woman on the Fortieth Day of Childbirth.’ The Great

Book of Needs, Vol. 1, 10–12.
POSTPARTUM RITES OF THE ORTHODOX CHURCH 247
It is often assumed that these rites are directly linked to the

rites after childbirth found in Leviticus that ban a postpartum
woman from the temple for a certain number of days and dictate
the necessary offerings required for her cleansing. Ritual impurity
in the ancient world did not constitute a sinful state, but rather a
special and contagious ritual state from which one must recover by
performing dictated actions. Childbirth was understood as ritually
impure not because of any sinfulness associated with childbearing,
but because all experiences which brought one into contact with
God’s creative powers, especially female blood – both postpartum
and menstrual – were taboo. 3 This understanding was part of the
strict division in the ancient world, found among the Jews and the
pagans, between the sacred and the profane, and this sort of impu-
rity demanded ritual remediation not only to cleanse the impurity
from the individual, but also to restore order and maintain God’s
favor for the community at large.
A direct textual relationship between the Christian rite of
Churching and its Mosaic antecedent rite of purification after
childbirth also seems logical when we consider that Mary, the
Mother of God, herself underwent this rite as we hear early in the
Gospel of Luke (Luke 2:22–24). There is evidence in the early
Christian era of the practice of mothers not returning to church
until a certain time period after childbirth had elapsed. 4 However,
as the work of Orthodox scholar Father Matthew Street has made
clear, there is no apparent historical, textual link between the Jew-
ish and Christian rites. 5
3 Streett, M. ‘What to Do with the Baby? The Historical Develop-

ment of the Rite of Churching.’ Saint Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, 56,
No. 1 (2012): 51–71, 54.
4 The Canons of Hippolytus include what are essentially stage direc-
tions for the new mother: ‘The woman who has given birth stays outside
the holy place forty days if the child which she has borne is male, and if it
is female, eighty days. If she enters the church, she is to pray with the
catechumens.’ The Canons of Hippolytus. Carol Bebawi, trans. Paul F. Brad-
shaw, ed. (Bramcote, England: Grove Books Limited. 1987), Canon 18,
20.
5 Streett, ‘What to Do with the Baby?,’ 53.
The oldest extant copies of the Churching rite are from the
eighth century, and they do not contain any prayers for the mother,
but are instead focused entirely on the child. 6 It is only later, ap-
proaching the twelfth century, that prayers for the mother, which
include the impurity theme, begin to be incorporated into the
Churching rite. The First Day rite was an even later addition in its
entirely, first appearing in fourteenth-century manuscripts. 7
The Levitical concept of impurity was introduced into these rites
– not retained from antiquity – most likely with the help of pagan
superstitions about pregnancy and childbirth, which were in the air
in the late Byzantine period. 8 Additionally, several historians argue
that: ‘The original sense of ritual impurity [from Leviticus] because
of blood-flow had been lost’ and replaced at this point of Christian
history by ‘only the notion of a sinful state [associated with child-
birth].’ 9
It is significant that the impurity language was a late addition
to the rite, yet, even if the rite were continuous and unaltered,
which is not the case, this question would still be valid: after the
coming of Christ and his fulfillment of the law, are there valid cate-
gories of ritual impurity around childbirth, or did Christ cast all
categories of purity and impurity into the sphere of free will, into
the choice between vice and virtue?
A look back through two thousand years of theology finds a
bag of answers that is mixed. Sister Vassa Larin’s work on the his-
tory of the theological concept of impurity in Christianity is helpful
for a balanced picture of this history, and I will rely on her work
here. Some Fathers interpreted Old Testament purity symbolically;
they ‘interpreted levitical categories of ‘purity’ and ‘impurity’ allegori-
6 Streett, ‘What to Do with the Baby?,’ 59.

7 Street, M. ‘The Rite of the First Day,’ unpublished excerpt from
‘What to Do with the Baby?’, used with permission of the author.
8 Thomas, K. Religion and the Decline of Magic: Studies in Popular Belief in
Sixteenth and Seventeenth England. (London: Penguin, 1971), 43.

9 Kristolaitis, C. ‘From Purification to Celebration: The History of
the Service for Women after Childbirth,’ Journal of the Canadian Church His-
torical Society. XXVIII. 2 (1986): 53–62, 57.
cally, that is to say as symbols of virtue and sin.’ 10 St. John Chrysos-
tom went so far as to specifically say in reference to childbirth,
‘Those things are not polluted which arise from nature … but
those which arise from choice,’ 11 advocating for perceptions of
female impurity after childbirth to be left in the past. On the other
hand, other patristic thinkers ‘viewed all proscriptions of the Mosa-
ic Law as purely symbolic except those concerning sex and sexuali-
ty,’ 12 including childbirth.
The law of the Church is mixed as well. The third-century
Christian treatise, the Didascalia Apostolorum emphatically be-
seeches women to consider Levitical laws about women’s blood
loss obsolete, and to go to church during times of bleeding. 13 On
the other hand, other canon law proscribed strict prohibitions from
Communion for menstruating and postpartum women.
Christ himself transformed Levitical practice many times,
most notably for this examination in his encounter with the woman
with the issue of blood (Matt 9:20–22, Mark 5:25–34, Luke 8:43–
47). Jesus Christ let her touch him, he healed her, and he acknowl-
edged her. In this way it appears that he eschewed the Levitical
understanding of impurity having to do with a woman’s blood.
Here and elsewhere in the Gospels, Christ shifted categories of
Levitical purity into the realm of the free will.   
St. Paul also abandoned the Levitical approach to the Law re-
garding impurity, except out of cases of charity. Indeed, he repeat-
edly emphasized that the new human has put on Christ, and that
any impurity has been left behind by baptism: ‘You were washed,
you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Je-
sus and in the Spirit of our God’ (1 Cor. 6:11 NKJV). For Paul,
baptism was the ultimate purification, after which none was need-
10 Larin, V. ‘What is ‘Ritual Im/purity’ and Why?,’ St Vladimir’s Theo-

logical Quarterly, 52, No. 3–4 (2008): 275–292, 280.
11 Chrysostom, J. ‘Homily XXXIII on Hebrews,’ trans. Frederic
Gardiner, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 14. Philip Schaff,
ed. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1889).
12 Larin, V. ‘What is ‘Ritual Im/purity’ and Why?,’ 280.
13 R. Hugh Connolly, trans., Didascalia Apostolorum. (Oxford: Claren-
don Press, 1929), XXVI. Located at: www. bombaxo.com/didascalia.

ed. Given Paul’s understanding of these things, a new mother can-

not be temporarily suspended from her purification. To suggest so
undermines the potency of the sacrament of baptism.
And yet, the concept of impurity after childbirth was intro-
duced into the childbearing rites in the second millennium, and
there it remains. The situation of these rites takes on urgency when
it is understood that these words are almost always the very first
and the very last a woman hears on the theological meaning of moth-
erhood from the Orthodox Church.
The purity language included in these Orthodox childbearing
rites does not merely jar the sensitive modern ear; it jars the Chris-
tian ear. It is not a ‘women’s issue,’ but a cosmic issue having every-
thing to do with who we are as human persons in light of Christ, as
well as with our understanding of baptism. We should reexamine
these rites, then, with the goal of throwing out the bathwater and
the bathwater only.  
Given the theologically unsound components of these rites,
coupled with their importance in the life of families, an inter-
jurisdictional group of Orthodox Christians working on these
postpartum rites has formed, of which I am a part. It has no offi-
cial status or affiliation, but is a group of theologians and historians
who have long considered these rites. This group understands and
appreciates that there is a high bar to change any rites, but it is the
group’s conviction that this bar has been met, and that, for the his-
torical and theological reasons stated here, that now is time to bring
new language to these rites.
Our goals are to: educate the laity and the clergy about the his-
tory and theology of these rites, to continue to consider the history,
theology, and translations of these rites, to offer some prayers for
the laity having to do with conception, pregnancy, childbirth, and
parenthood, and to ultimately work to alter the First Day and
Churching rites, with an eye to removing the theologically unsound
language of impurity while making certain that the deeply incarna-
tional aspect of these prayers is preserved. We ultimately hope to
have these alterations blessed and distributed by our bishops.
We are buoyed by the knowledge that several Orthodox
groups have asked for this process to be initiated, including the
Agapia Conference of 1979, the Women in the Orthodox Church
Conference in Istanbul in 1997, and the Women’s Theological
Conference in Crete in 2000. We are also sensitive to the cultural
traditions surrounding these rites. Some have suggested that we

leave particularly the issue of abstinence from communion after
childbirth and during menstruation to the individual believer. 14
This sentiment echoes the empathetic words of Saint Paul: ‘I know
and am convinced by the Lord Jesus that there is nothing unclean
of itself; but to him who considers anything to be unclean, to him it
is unclean’ (Rom. 14:14). There is wisdom here, and a careful com-
bination of such charity and education will be employed in the ef-
fort to change these rites.
CONCLUSION
The First Day prayers and the Churching rite both contain other
theological concepts; they are not dominated by talk of impurity,
and it is significant that the Orthodox Church even has rites that
welcome (both male and female) children into the world. In cele-
brating these rites, we, as Orthodox, acknowledge the glory that is a
new life born, and the constant hope we all have for our own re-
birth into the next life. We also offer liturgical hospitality to new
mothers and their children. This is no small thing, especially in a
culture that is confused about the significance of parenthood and
childbirth, and in the midst of other Christian churches that have
no liturgical acknowledgment of these things. I grew up in a tiny,
elderly Orthodox parish in West Virginia, and the first time I wit-
nessed a Churching rite was when I was churched with my
firstborn. I heard the bits about impurity and they jarred me – of-
fered as they were with no explanation whatsoever – but I also
heard the rest of the rite. After experiencing a dangerous delivery
14 Demetrios C. Passakos suggests in his article on impurity in the

New Testament that we leave issues about menstruation (and presumably
childbirth, too) to the freedom of conscience of each believer, without the
bias of any ‘law.’ For example, it is absurd to exclude a woman in her
menstrual period from full participation in the life of the Church, but it
would be equally absurd to impose the opposite, when and if a woman for
psychological, or personal reasons knowing chooses abstention.’ Passakos,
D.C. ‘Clean and Unclean in the New Testament: Implications for Con-
temporary Liturgical Practices,’ Greek Orthodox Theological Review, 47:1–4
(2002): 277–293, 292.
myself, I heard the priest say, ‘O Lord God Almighty, Father of

our Lord Jesus Christ, Who … hast brought all things from noth-
ingness into being, we pray and entreat thee: Thou hast saved this
thy servant, Carrie, by thy will.’ I heard in the First Days prayer, the
petition that the Lord might ‘Cover [me] with the shelter of [his]
holy wings from this day until [my] final end,’ and I felt those wings
on that day, and I feel that special shelter and care that God,
through his church, has offered me as a mother to this day. It is
with this in mind that I wish to work towards a reconsideration of
the impurity language in these childbearing rites.
PSALMS 112:5–9 AND ALTERNATIVE
FAMILY ARRANGEMENTS
WILLIAM EPHREM GALL

Who is like the Lord our God, Who dwells in the highest,
and Who looks upon the humble things in heaven and
earth? He raises the poor man from the earth and lifts up
the poor from the dunghills so as to seat him with rulers,
with the rulers of His people; He settles the barren woman
in a home, to be a joyful mother of children.
Psalms 112:5–9 (‘SAAS’)
The Psalmist’s word of good cheer for childless women, the poor,
and the needy speaks in part to alternate family arrangements.
Psalm 112 most assuredly refers to the Prophet David’s provision
of a seat at his royal table for his departed friend Jonathan’s son
Mephibosheth, who was disabled in his feet.
Dr. John Boojamra in his book ‘Foundations for Christian
Education’ calls for a family-centered approach to the socialization
of children. Boojamra understands the home as the decisive setting
for the development of Christian character. He also identified two
factors crucial to this: first a father who is present in the home,
active in church life, and a model of that life in the home; also a
loving and harmonious relationship between husband and wife is
of paramount concern. This, of course, is the traditional family, the
optimal situation for childhood development. 1
1Boojamra, J.L. Foundations For Orthodox Christian Education (Crest-

wood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1985).
253
254 WILLIAM EPHREM GALL
But not all are called by God to this form of home and family.
St. Paul explained this much in his first letter to the Corinthians, in
which he extols the unmarried state as more conducive to a per-
son's single-minded devotion to Christ. Through St. Antony the
Great, the Desert Fathers, and St. Pachomius the Great, the mo-
nastic way developed into a predominantly coenobitic, shared living
situation. In other words, a different kind of family. But not all
unmarried persons are called to the monastic life.
Orthodox Christian monasticism, while not neglecting hospi-
tality, has focused on liturgical and hesychastic prayer as the central
activity of this particular form of common life, directed toward
purification, illumination, and deification in Christ. One would
have a strong argument that the Orthodox Church counts monasti-
cism as the optimal situation for continuing human development.
An earlier Orthodox Christian expression of monastic life
which gave more of an emphasis to both prayer and service to oth-
ers is St. Basil the Great’s Basiliad, which operated as a hospice. St.
Gregory the Theologian recounts how St. Basil would himself wash
the feet of lepers. St. John Chrysostom, in one of his homilies,
urged traditional families to provide a guest chamber in their home
with a bed, table, and a candlestick for a poor or disabled person
who otherwise had no home.
In the West, Roman Catholic monasticism developed many
orders with a variety of focuses, including that of service to the
poor. This vision of a common life with Christ in the persons of
the poor while not being the main emphasis of traditional Ortho-
dox Christian monasticism is nevertheless an effective means for
social welfare (and has been such since the very inception of East-
ern Christianity). This is perhaps the reason why it became a famili-
al paradigm for Orthodox Christians who do not feel the call to
monastic life, including those who are single as well as childless
couples. Hence, their faith is sustained by the example of good
works of the Fathers and monastic communities.
There are various contemporary manifestations of such a vi-
sion to be mentioned in this context. For instance, Jean Vanier, a
former professor of philosophy at the University of Toronto and a
Roman Catholic Christian, after encountering two men with intel-
lectual disabilities in an institution, chose to live with them himself.
From this small beginning a movement began, and many have been
inspired by Jean Vanier to choose to share their lives with persons
PSALMS 112:5–9 AND ALTERNATIVE FAMILY ARRANGEMENTS 255
who have intellectual disabilities. The organization that sprang

from this movement, L’Arche, has since spread around the world.
In his book ‘Community and Growth’ Vanier sets forth the
philosophy and format of these communities. One word that re-
ceives stress in this book, fidelity, underlines the familial nature of
this way of life. One establishes relationships with the poor and
maintains these relationships on a long-term basis as God wills and
enables. Trust is built, and gradually very closed or wounded per-
sons will often begin to open up and flower. And in the process,
those who choose to share their lives with persons who have intel-
lectual disabilities will also discover their own wounds. As such,
when these are brought to light and reckoned with, they too will
experience healing. 2 Hence, the redemptive work of Christ is mani-
fested through this mutual collaboration and fellowship in God.
My wife and I have been involved on a long term basis with
another organization, Friendship Community, which according to
its mission statement seeks to impact the world with the capabili-
ties of people with intellectual disabilities. For eighteen years we
served as houseparents for a Friendship Community group home,
and as a childless couple ourselves, this was an alternative family
arrangement for us.
There are many ways in which to commit to loving relation-
ships through alternative family arrangements. The Catholic Work-
er movement founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin repre-
sents another major effort to meet the needs of homeless persons,
which, as they were able to do so, included housing, friendship, and
comradeship. There are currently 225 Catholic Worker houses in
the U.S. and internationally, according to their website. In some
cases, their homes provide support, such as clothing, food, and
shelter referral, but not necessarily shelter to homeless and needy
people, largely because of the cost of meeting government regula-
tions in regard to housing facilities. This difficulty has become
more pronounced in recent years.
2 Vanier, Jean. Community and Growth. (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press,

1989).
256 WILLIAM EPHREM GALL
The Orthodox Foundation near Indiana, Pennsylvania, which

served homeless persons, had to close its doors because it was un-
able to meet Pennsylvania’s stringent regulations.
There are other Orthodox Christian efforts which currently
provide homes for those in need. In addition to the many minis-
tries which provide practical help to people in need, such as the
Emmaus House in New York City and Focus North America,
there are a few which also provide housing: Raphael House in San
Francisco, California and St. John's House for the Homeless, in
Brooklyn, New York. There is also a home for people with intellec-
tual disabilities, the Hellenos House, in Wantagh, Long Island, NY.
An Orthodox Christian-based organization in Omaha, Nebraska,
the Sheltering Tree, has endeavored to garner the resources to es-
tablish a housing community and an educational and vocational
center for young adults with developmental disabilities since 2006.
Outside of the U.S. there are Orthodox Christian efforts to
provide living arrangements for persons who are disabled or desti-
tute, such as the House of Mercy, in Minsk, Belarus, the farmstead
and boarding homes associated with the St. Martyr Grand Princess
Elizabeth Convent, also in Minsk, Belarus, and the Waterloo Disa-
bled Village in Sierra Leone, Africa.
To what degree do these housing provisions constitute alter-
nate family living arrangements? Perhaps, but I am unsure. To the
degree that there is love and concern for each other among the
residents and staff of these communities, to that same degree they
become a fulfillment of Psalms 112, and function as alternative
family arrangements for those who have no other.
Sustaining such efforts is not easy. There are difficult days
which test one’s commitment. An idealistic person entering into
such a lifestyle will be disillusioned by the many difficulties and
setbacks which will occur, as well as by their own failure to live up
to the ideal.
But as one trusts in God, the Holy Spirit provides the grace
sufficient for each day, so that fidelity may be maintained for what-
ever length of time God has called a person to a particular alterna-
tive family arrangement.
TURNING TOWARD AS A PASTORAL
THEOLOGY OF MARRIAGE
PHILIP MAMALAKIS 1
Much has been written about the Orthodox theology of marriage,

its historical developments, its ecclesial dimensions, its ceremony
and symbolism, and its eternal implications. 2 Much less has been
written for pastors charged with guiding couples through the inevi-
table challenges and irreconcilable differences that occur in mar-
riage. The intent of this paper is to offer an Orthodox theology of
marriage useful for pastors guiding couples along the path of mar-
riage. A pastoral theology of marriage serves to provide a theologi-
cal framework for understanding the sacrament of married life and
how it is that couples form ‘themselves by God’s grace in the like-
ness of Christ.’ 3
A young couple in their thirties, married for ten years with
three children, whom we will call John and Becky, met with me
because they could no longer endure the constant conflict between
them. He was a successful businessman and she, a stay at home
mom with a college degree. They reported that they were stuck and
all attempts to communicate ended in conflict. They fought about
1 An earlier version of this study appeared in Greek Orthodox Theologi-

cal Review 56: 1–4 (2011): 179–195.
2 See Calivas A.C. ‘Marriage: The Sacrament of Love and Commun-
ion.’ Greek Orthodox Theological Review (1995): 40 for a thorough articulation

of an Eastern Christian theology of marriage and a comprehensive list of
resources on the topic.
3 Calivas. ‘Marriage.’ 249.
257
258 PHILIP MAMALAKIS
everything and felt very disconnected. In the first few sessions it

was clear, as they exchanged sarcastic comments, that they had
grown apart as the stresses of running a household and raising
children entered their marriage. They married because they enjoyed
each other’s company playing tennis and skiing but over the course
of their marriage, according to their reports, they clashed over a
number of issues and struggled with the personal weaknesses they
discovered in each other. They accused each other: He worked too
much, could never relax, and turned the kids against her. She was
disorganized, lazy, and unable to keep the household on schedule
and clean. They exchanged criticism and complaints interspersed
with insults and judgments yet reported that, with three kids and a
mortgage, hoping to build a summer home, divorce was not an
option. They were stuck and listed all the issues on which they had
reached an impasse including parenting, planning vacations, sched-
uling the day, and finances.
In the most extreme pastoral cases, a spouse will approach a
pastor to report that the other spouse has emotionally or physically
‘checked out’ of the marriage either through work or recreation or,
more critically, pornography, infidelity, or addiction. In the best
cases, both partners are involved in the Church or the pastor has a
relationship with the prodigal spouse. More typically, the pastor is
restricted to working with only one spouse, most often, the wife. In
these dramatic cases, often the only perceivable options are staying
in a ‘dead’ marriage or divorcing. Understanding marriage as sac-
rament, or theophany, provides little guidance to the pastor
charged with guiding the spouse. Espousing the sanctity of mar-
riage rings hollow to the lonely, abandoned wife who faces not only
the death of her marriage, but also the death of the hopes and ex-
pectations that she had on her wedding day. 4
4 The implications for proper marital preparation are evident here.

Preparing couples for marriage requires that we address the unrealistic
expectations of marriage that many engaged couples such that the chal-
lenges of marriage are not accompanied by severe disappointment, but
mature preparation. Proper marriage preparation plays a key role in teach-
ing couples about the nature and purpose of marriage such that they es-
tablish appropriate patterns for identifying and addressing the inevitable
TURNING TOWARD AS A PASTORAL THEOLOGY OF MARRIAGE 259
THE SPIRITUAL LIFE AND HOW TO BE MARRIED IN IT

Our theology of marriage provides the starting point for a discus-
sion. As a sacrament, marriage is a direct revelation of the kingdom
of God in two specific persons.’ 5 ‘When husband and wife are
united in marriage, they form an image of no earthly reality, but of
God himself.’ 6 Marriage is sustained by the Holy Spirit, and is a
vehicle of the Holy Spirit. It is transfiguring. ‘According to faith,
marriage in Christ raises man and wife to share in the divine na-
ture.’ 7 And the divine nature, we know, is love (1 John 4:16). ‘He
who possesses love possesses god Himself, for God is Love.’ 8
‘The way of life and love of two people is sustained and per-
fected in their oneness with God’s love.’ 9 It is not so much that
divine love is imposed on human love, as it is that human love is
transformed in union with Divine love. Marriage transfigures ‘hu-
man love into a new reality of heavenly origin’ 10 Divine love sus-
tains marriage by transforming the person of husband and wife in
divine love and with divine love. Marriage, then, is a journey of
love. 11
The end result is that through the mystery of marriage we
come to love in a divine way such that, to paraphrase Galatians
2:20, it is no longer I who loves my wife, but Christ who loves in
me. More specifically, marriage is a journey of acquiring perfect
challenges that arise. See Mamalakis P. and Joanides C. The Journey of Mar-
riage in the Orthodox Church (New York, NY: Greek Orthodox Archdiocese
of America, 2010).
5 Chrysavvgis J. ‘The Sacrament of Marriage: An Orthodox Perspec-
tive.’ Studia Liturgica (1989): 17.

6 Charalambidis S. ‘Marriage in the Orthodox Church.’ One in Christ
15 (1979): 204.
7 Charalambidis. ‘Marriage in the Orthodox Church.’ 207.
8 St. Maximos the Confessor. Selected Writings. (New York, NY: Pau-
list Press, 1985), 122.

9 Calivas. ‘Marriage: The Sacrament of Love and Communion.’ 250.
10 Charalambidis. ‘Marriage in the Orthodox Church.’ 206.
11 Archimandrite Aimilianos of Simonopetra. The Church at Prayer
(Athens: Indiktos, 2005), 120.

love, becoming perfect love toward our spouse. ‘The couples gift
of self to each other is to come to love in a divine way…’ 12
That perfection is not simply an outward perfection of a cou-
ple who never fights, but an essential transformation of the persons
of the husband and wife who participate through grace in the di-
vine nature of God. (2 Peter 1:3–4) St. John Chrysostom, ‘If you
ask Him, he will work an even greater miracle than He worked in
Cana: That is, He will transform the water of your unstable pas-
sions into the wine of spiritual unity…’ 13 Yet, in my marriage, I still
love my wife imperfectly. And, more noticeably at times, she loves
me imperfectly. Because we know that ‘only the perfect person,
with a perfect conscience, a perfect mind, and perfect power can
have perfect love. Such a person is our God.’ 14 Within the sacra-
ment of marriage, my spiritual journey of acquiring perfect love
intersects with her journey. The daily struggles of marriage are situ-
ated within this call to acquire perfect love. (Mt 5:48).
This journey of acquiring perfect love for our spouse is a
journey toward the kingdom of God, which we can say with cer-
tainty is far from struggle free, because the kingdom of God suffers
violence and the violent take it by force (Mt. 11:12). However the
distinct nature of the struggle is not against our spouse but against
the flesh (cf. Galatians 5:13–25). It is not that there are struggles
along the path of marriage but the struggles are the path of mar-
riage.
For the Orthodox, Christ is the celebrant of wedding ceremo-
ny, and it is Christ who is at the heart of marriage. ‘In fact, this
wedding is the wedding of the spouses to Christ.’ 15 In and through
marriage, each person is wedded to Christ, in and through their
union with each other. ‘I am married, then, means that I enslave

13 St. John Chrysostom. Marriage and Family Life. (Crestwood, NY: St.
Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1986), 78.
14 Bishop Nikolai Velimorovich. The Collected Writings of Nikoli Velim-
irovich. (Seattle: St. Nectarios Press, 1995), 45.

15 Paul Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love: The Nuptial Mystery in the
Light of the Orthodox Tradition. (Crestwood, NY, St. Vladimir’s Press, 1985),
123.
my heart to Christ … I am the slave of Christ.’ 16 We find our ful-

fillment as husbands and wives as we are united with Christ and
perfected in Christ.
We live out the sacramental life of the church in our daily lives
of marriage as we live out our vocation to love Christ by loving our
spouse. ‘Love her, not so much for her sake, but for Christ’s sake.
That is why he [St. Paul] says, ‘be subject … as to the Lord.’ 17 ‘Do
everything for the Lord’s sake, in a spirit of obedience to Him.’ 18
Within the sacrament of marriage our love for God is expressed
through our love for our spouse, and our love for our spouse wit-
nesses to our love for God. Marital struggles are specifically, the
struggle to love our spouse as unto the Lord (Eph. 5:20–22).
It is also in this sense that we can say that marriage is not an
end in and of itself. The goal of the Christian life is not to remain
married, for that might be outside our control, but to be united
with God, perfected in love, and inherit the Kingdom of God. To
sustain a marriage requires that two persons choose to engage each
other. Each one is free to turn away from the other and from
Christ most dramatically through infidelity or abuse. The victim of
this is not, in any way, obstructed on the path of salvation, even if
the marriage ends.
This divine vocation to love our spouse as unto the Lord
serves as the orientation of marriage. It is by loving Christ, first and
foremost, that we understand how to love our spouse. This love
for Christ is lived out, and expressed, daily through the prosaic,
ostensibly insignificant events of married life.
TURNING TOWARD IN MARRIAGE

To look more specifically at the sacramental nature of married life,
I turn to the work of Dr. John Gottman, one of the foremost mari-
tal researchers in the United States. He discovered that, contrary to
conventional wisdom, happily married couples had as many perva-
sive problems as distressed couples and did not maintain their con-
16 Aimilianos. The Church at Prayer, 125.

17 Chrysostom. On Marriage and Family Life, 78.
nection through deep, heart-to-heart talks. Rather, healthy couples

nurtured intimacy in their relationship through the small, simple
exchanges that occur throughout the day, such as: ‘When are you
coming home?’ ‘Don’t forget to take out the trash.’ ‘Demetri is
sick.’ ‘Can you pick up milk on the way home?’
He discovered that these small exchanges were, in fact, bids
for connection that spouses make to each other. ‘A bid can be a
question, a gesture, a look, a touch, any single expression that says,
‘I want to feel connected to you.’’ 19 He considers bids for connec-
tion ‘the fundamental unit of emotional communication.’ 20 He
submits that we make bids to each other out of our natural desire
to connect, to be in relationships with people. At the heart of the
marital union are these hundreds of small bids for connection be-
tween couples. 21 How couples respond to these small bids for con-
nection, either turning toward, away, or against, can draw them
closer together or farther apart.
Turning toward includes making eye-contact, simple nods, at-
tending, listening, and engaging responses, which communicate
care, respect, and love. Turning toward communicates: ‘I hear you,’
‘I am interested in you,’ ‘I am on your side,’ ‘I accept you,’ ‘I’d like
to be with you.’ The daily communicating in marriage, as bids for
connection, are not just about sharing information, but about nur-
turing connection and intimacy. 22
Often, in couples counseling, when I suggest to a husband
that he ask his wife what she is feeling, he will tell me that he al-
19 Gottman J.H. The Relationship Cure: A Five Step Guide to Strengthening

Your Marriage, Family and Friendships. (New York, NY: Three Rivers Press,
2001), 4.
20 Gottman. The Relationship Cure, 4.
21 A comprehensive overview of Dr. Gottman’s research findings on
marital intimacy is outside the scope of this paper. For more information,
see Gottman J.H. The Marriage Clinic: A Scientifically Based Marital Therapy.
(New York, NY: WW Norton and Co. Inc., 1999).
22 Dr. Gottman observed that husbands heading for divorce disre-
gard their wives’ bids for connection 82% of the time, while husbands in
stable relationships disregard their wives’ bids just 19% of the time.
Gottman. The Relationship Cure.
ready knows how his wife is feeling, so why should he ask. I re-
mind him that we ask her how she is feeling to express care and
concern, to connect, rather than to get information. When a wife is
struggling with something, she turns to her husband to connect,
rather than to be told what to do. The loving response is to turn
toward, to be attentive and to listen. The nature of sharing and lis-
tening is that it is a turning toward, and as such, expresses care and
love.
Turning away refers to the distracted, preoccupied, disregard-
ing, or interrupting responses, which communicate a lack of inter-
est. Turning away communicates: ‘I don’t care about your bid,’ ‘I
want to avoid you,’ ‘I am not really interested in you,’ ‘I’ve got
more important things on my mind,’ ‘I’m too busy to pay attention
to you.’ We have all experienced this turning away when talking to
someone who is watching television or checking his or her cell
phone. While it is not a turning against, it is certainly not a turning
toward.
Turning against bids for connection are contemptuous put-
downs, and belligerent, combative, contradictory, domineering,
critical, defensive, angry, or blaming responses. These hostile and
aggressive reactions are the most damaging to relationships and
communicate disdain, disrespect and hatred. They communicate:
‘Your need for attention makes me angry,’ ‘I don’t respect you,’ ‘I
don’t value you or this relationship,’ ‘I want to hurt you,’ ‘I want to
drive you away,’ and even, ‘I hate you.’
Spouses are tempted to turn against each other when they are
angry, overwhelmed, stressed, hurt, hungry, or tired. Spouses are
deceived into believing that they are too tired, too hurt, or too an-
gry to turn toward each other so they turn against with comments
such as: ‘I don’t have time now!’ ‘You’re lazy.’ ‘Why can’t you
help?’ ‘You don’t care!’ ‘Can’t you see I’m busy!’ While feeling
overwhelmed or angry are common experiences in marriage, in
those moments love demands that in our anger, we turn toward,
not against our spouse (Eph 4:26).
Other times, a spouse might feel that s/he does not have the
time to turn toward. Yet, it takes as much time to turn toward, with
a statement like, ‘I’m too angry to talk now,’ as it does to turn
against with a statement like, ‘Get out of here!’
At the heart of marriage, Dr. Gottman discovered, are the
seemingly mundane interactions of daily life through which couples
grow in intimacy and closeness as they turn toward each other. Far
from being insignificant, these interactions are the context for
building oneness, expressing love and growing in love. In his re-
search, Dr. Gottman found that couples who turn toward each
other most demonstrated the greatest capacity for affection when
difficult issues arose in their marriages. Couples who turned away,
or against, each other most often seemed to disconnect and experi-
enced greater difficulty working through major challenges. 23
TURNING TOWARD AS A THEOLOGY OF MARRIAGE

‘The beginning of the spiritual life is conversion (επιστροφή), an
attitude of the will turning toward God and renouncing the
world.’ 24
At the heart of marriage is turning toward one another, with-
out ceasing, as unto the Lord. Paul Evdokimov notes that the bib-
lical term for Eve, (Ezer Ke-negdo) means ‘a helper turned toward
him’ (Gen 2:18). 25 The Latin root of the word divorce means to
turn apart (divertere). 26
Every moment, every exchange, within married life becomes a
decisive moment for God to act (καιρός). ‘In marriage, the Holy
Spirit unites the present with the future, as well as every moment of
our lives with eternity.’ 27 It is when couples turn toward each other
each moment that their life rises up like a royal doxology, like an
23 Dr. Gottman makes the point that spouses are not the only ones
who bid for connection. Children bid for connection through their inter-
actions with parents. Students are bidding for connection with teachers,
and, most relevant for pastors, parishioners are continuously bidding for
connection in their exchanges, requests, and demands on pastors. How a
pastor responds to these bids communicates powerful messages, often
unintentionally.
24 Vladimir Lossky. The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church. (Crest-
wood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1997), 199.

25 Evdomimov. The Sacrament of Love, 32.
26 Glare P. G. W. The Oxford Latin Dictionary (Oxford: Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 2002), 533.

unending liturgical chant. In this sense, ‘marriage is a mysterious

icon of the Church.’ 28
Turning toward Christ in marriage goes beyond listening to
one another and is at the heart of our life in Christ. ‘Unless you
turn (στραφῆτε) and become as children you cannot enter the
kingdom of God.’ (Mt 18:3) For a Christian marriage, turning to-
ward Christ is a self-offering to spouse and Christ. It is an act of
openness, an act of opening the heart to Christ, an act of prayer.
Turning toward is a self-giving and an act of love. ‘Love is more
than warm feelings. It is an attitude and a disposition of illuminated
self-giving.’ 29 Yet, that self that I have to offer is often angry, frus-
trated, hurt, or overwhelmed. As fallen persons, spouses at times,
cannot, or do not want to, turn toward the other.
TURNING TOWARD AND THE WAY OF THE CROSS IN

MARRIED LIFE
The invitation to acquire perfect love for my spouse, to turn to-
ward my spouse, as unto the Lord, without ceasing, is an invitation
to do the impossible. The impossible nature of the marriage voca-
tion creates a tension within each of us between our call to love
and the inevitable feelings of disappointment, betrayal, rejection,
and pain we experience in marriage. This tension within us is the
cross of Christ. The cross of Christ in marriage is not our spouse
or our unmet needs, but this tension between our vocation to love
and our desires to turn away, or against, our spouse. This tension is
not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be encountered and
lived.
The goal of marriage is not to change our spouse to meet our
needs, but to allow the Holy Spirit to change us as we live and love
in that tension, as we turn toward Christ and our spouse in the face
of disappointments and unmet needs. The way of the cross is the
way of life. Marriage is a journey of turning toward Christ within
this tension, rather than away, or against. We cannot escape the
cross of Christ. Rather, by walking the way of the cross, we en-
28 Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, 35.

counter Christ. When we are crucified with Christ, daily, we rise

with Christ. We know that through the cross joy comes to all the
world, including our marriages.
To turn toward in this tension is to offer my self, including
my sins, my struggles, my pain, my disappointments, my illnesses
of my soul, and my brokenness to Christ and my spouse. Rather
than turning against my spouse by reacting out of my brokenness,
marriage is a journey of learning how to turn toward our spouse as
unto the Lord in our brokenness. To turn toward, in this tension, is
to acknowledge/confess (ομολογῶ) what is on my heart to Christ
and to my spouse with statements such as: ‘I’m too angry to talk
now.’ ‘I don’t like what you’re doing.’ ‘It hurts me when you talk
like that.’ ‘I’m afraid to tell you what I’m really feeling.’
No matter how worn down we find ourselves in marriage, we
have a choice, even in our exhaustion, to fall away or to fall toward
Christ. ‘Is not repentance [turning toward] only a fall into the
hands of God and at his feet in a fainting of the will, with a
wounded heart bleeding in regret, members being shattered by sin
having no power to rise except by God’s mercy?’ 30
Confessing, as a turning toward, is not simply about sharing
information, but bidding for connection with God and spouse,
which nurtures intimacy and oneness. Paradoxically, confessing my
brokenness (turning toward), rather than acting out of my broken-
ness (turning against) communicates, ‘I care about you,’ ‘you are
important to me,’ ‘I love you.’
In and through acknowledging/confessing our brokenness to
each other, daily, (cf. James 5:16) rather than acting out of our bro-
kenness, we open our hearts to God’s healing Spirit. In that con-
fession, we encounter Christ and His holy spirit. Turning toward
ones spouse is our assent to Christ, the assent of the soul to receive
the Holy Spirit to be healed, to be transformed.
Marriage as a journey of love becomes a journey of discovery,
discovering the person of the spouse and discovering myself, be-
coming increasingly aware of my brokenness in the context of turn-
ing toward my wife in her brokenness. This can be a frightening
Matthew the Poor and Matta El-Maskeen. The Communion of Love.

30
(Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1984), 98.

endeavor, or, in the context of Christ’s unfailing love, a journey of

transformation. St. Dionysios the Areopagite writes that God is
always ‘imparting himself with unbending power for deification of
those turned toward Him.’ 31
The differences of opinion and personalities, the stresses of
life, and the disagreements within married life create tension be-
tween husband and wife. Couples are tempted to avoid that ten-
sion, or blame each other, and pastors are tempted to view that
tension as negative or as a problem to be solved. However, this
tension is, at another level, the same cross of marriage. It is not a
problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived. In that tension we
are called to turn toward, to confess to, our spouse and to Christ. It
is precisely in that tension where we, as spouses, encounter Christ.
In that tension we are crucified with Christ and we rise with Christ.
The journey of marriage is the way of the cross, and in that tension,
we turn toward Christ through prayer, confession, and repentance.
‘It is indispensable for every Christian to acquire the habit of turn-
ing quickly to God in prayer about everything.’ 32
By the third meeting with John and Becky I shifted the con-
versation from blame and criticism of the other to confessing their
own disappointment and pain, inviting them to face the tension
that existed within themselves and between them. By blocking the
turning against of insults and sarcasm, each one was invited to con-
fess, to share their feelings of hurt and betrayal. As the conversa-
tion shifted to a mutual confession, John gathered the courage to
confess that he no longer loved Becky. Her quiet tears validated
John's fear of hurting Becky that had kept him from acknowledging
his own tension. She immediately confessed (turned toward him)
that she already knew that and it was better to hear it. In that mu-
tual confession something occurred. They connected for the first
31 Williams G. ‘An Exploration of Hierarchy as Fractal in the Theol-

ogy of Dionysios the Areopagite.’ Power and Authority in the Eastern Christian
Experience (New York, NY: Theotokos Press, 2010), 6.
32 St. John of Kronstadt. My Life in Christ (Jordanville, NY: Holy
Trinity Monastery Press, 1984), 132.

time in years. This connection nurtured a sense of intimacy and

closeness reminiscent of their early years together.
Keeping the conversations focused on continuing to turn to-
ward each other, they gently shared more of themselves around
several of the issues they had been unable to resolve. We stayed in
that tension between them, keeping the conversations focused on
turning toward each other. In that tension, they chose to confess
rather than attack, to love rather than hate, and to turn toward,
rather than away from or against each other. Together, in that ten-
sion, they met Christ. They encountered each other, and they left
feeling closer. I did not solve any problems, but guided them in the
mystery of the cross of marriage, turning toward each other in that
creative tension that is the path of intimacy, oneness, and healing.
John reported that he never liked coming to my office but it always
made him feel better and now he feels closer to his wife, able to
work together on the challenges in front of them. Today they re-
main happily married.
To turn toward Christ demands meekness, at times, to stand
up to or against our spouse’s sinful or destructive behavior. Turn-
ing toward Christ serves to guide persons in dealing with abuse,
infidelity and addiction that occurs in marriage. Rather than pas-
sively acquiescing to sinful conduct, or criticizing or attacking our
spouse, to turn toward is to speak up, or take action, and to set
limits to sinful conduct within marriage. ‘I do not support your
pornography use.’ ‘I will not participate in that.’ ‘If you raise your
voice I will leave.’ ‘I am not ok with secret cell phones or email
accounts.’ Saying no to sin is a turning toward Christ. Turning to-
ward Christ might mean leaving the home in the face of violence
and abuse of any kind. It might mean leaving the marriage when
our spouse insists on turning against Christ without ceasing. The
goal of married life is not to stay married, but to turn toward Christ
without ceasing. St. John Chrysostom contends that it is better to
break up a marriage for righteousness sake than to suffer abuse.
‘The unbelieving spouse, in these cases, is as much to blame for the
separation as the partner guilty of infidelity.’ 33 Turning toward
Christ means seeking pastoral and professional help when we wit-

ness our spouse become ensnared to sin or when we, ourselves,

become ensnared to sin.
Marital spirituality as it is lived out becomes a constant jour-
ney of re-turning toward Christ by re-turning toward the spouse.
‘Of the many things that impede our salvation the greatest of all is
that when we commit any transgression we do not at once turn
back to God and ask forgiveness.’ 34 Re-turning toward is the reali-
zation, the acknowledgment, that we have turned away and against
Christ and our spouse. Marriage is a journey of re-turning, like the
prodigal, to our home and our Father’s love. The sacrament of
confession finds its place in the heart of the marital journey. As
Orthodox we approach confession therapeutically. We don’t con-
fess to God to give Him information, but we confess as a turning
toward God, opening ourselves up to the healing that comes from
His ceaseless bids for connection. Confessing is our response to
the tension that exists within us and between spouses, and our par-
ticipation in the sacramental life of union with God. ‘The word
penitence does not properly express the idea of this fundamental
attitude of every Christian soul which turns to God.’ 35
In this sense, couples who seek to re-turn toward, daily, in the
sacrament of married life. ‘…become the image [not] of anything
on earth, but of God himself.’ 36 When you see a couple who are
conscious of this, it is as if you are seeing Christ. Together they are
a theophany.’ 37
THE ROLE OF THE PRIEST

A full understanding of the role of the priest in helping couples
walk in the tension of marriage cannot be summarized in a few
paragraphs, neither can it be reduced to a series of steps to follow.
Essentially, the role of the priest is to hold couples in their tension
34 Nicholas Cabasilas. The Life in Christ. (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladi-

mir’s Seminary Press, 1974), 168.
35 Lossky. The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, 204.
by blocking the turning away and against that frequently accompa-

nies marital conflict and facilitating a mutual turning toward Christ
and each other. The pastor must, initially, prohibit attacks and criti-
cism and invite the turning toward of sharing personal hurt and
pain. This requires that the pastor resists, in himself, the temptation
to try to solve problems and focus on listening to struggles. At-
tempts to solve the complex and intractable problems of marriage
usually fail and lead to feelings of frustration, confusion and failure
in the pastor and the couple.
A pastor must understand that the tension within, and be-
tween, the husband or wife is not a problem to solve, but the cross
of Christ. This is the crowning of husband and wife as king/queen
and martyr that they receive on their wedding day. Couples need to
be taught and encouraged that the cross cannot be avoided and is
not a problem to be solved but the path to intimacy and happiness.
Pastors need to guide couples to turn toward Christ and each other
in that tension as the way of the cross.
Holding individuals and couples in the tension requires that a
pastor have the strength and wisdom to love the couple in his own
tension between the desire to solve a couples problems and the call
to listen to people’s pain and suffering. This tension in the pastor
represents the cross of pastoral care. The greater a pastor’s ability
to listen in the face of the temptation to solve problems the more
he will be able to help couples live in their tension and experience
God’s healing grace.
Pastors must resist the temptation to solve the problem, be-
cause the problem of marriage is the cross of Christ, which has no
solution. Rather, it is the solution. In that tension he must invite
each person to confess, to acknowledge their burdens, their strug-
gles, their pain, and their mistakes to the pastor and to the listening
spouse. The pastor gives each person the opportunity to confess,
and in hearing those confessions, points to the path of love. He
cuts off, or redirects, any blame, attacks, judgments, or turning
against that he witnesses, and facilitates a mutual process of turning
toward each other. The pastor eases their burdens through listen-
ing, and guides them toward repentance, teaching each of the
spouses how to listen, silently, as an act of venerating the icon of
Christ in the other.
The challenge for pastoral care is to meet couples on this
path, keeping the vision of marriage clear and to guide couples not
to endure the struggles, but to be transformed and healed in the

midst of the struggles. God did not create marriage that we might
endure it, but that we may have eternal life. After a pastor has
heard the struggles of each individual, he must guide the persons to
understanding how to turn toward Christ and spouse. This requires
the wisdom to understand that at times turning toward Christ
means setting limits to sinful behavior and standing up to a spouse,
and at other times it means patiently enduring a spouse going
through a struggle. It is the role of the pastor or pastoral counselor
to hold a person in the tension and discern what constitutes a turn-
ing toward Christ. In that tension, we turn toward Christ in prayer
and turn toward the spouse in love.
On one level, this does not necessarily solve the problem, be-
cause marriage is not a problem to solve but a mystery to be lived.
On another level, this is the solution because this is the path of the
mystery of marriage, the way of the cross and the resurrection.
CAREGIVING AS AN EXPRESSION OF
FAMILIAL LOVE
ANNMARIE GIDUS-MECERA
What is our obligation to our parents when the effects of old-age
take away their independence? As Christians, what is our responsi-
bility – if any – to our parents’ well-being as it becomes necessary
for them to rely on others? What can we learn from the Old and
New Testaments about our duty to our parents? What wisdom can
the Church Fathers impart on us? What do contemporary theologi-
ans and writers have to say?
This paper explores our obligation to our parent, what it
means to care for our parents, and how we can best meet that chal-
lenge. Our Christian obligation is addressed by looking to Holy
Scripture and the Church Fathers. Jewish leaders are noted, due to
the connection between the Orthodox Faith and Judaism. The phi-
losophies of contemporary theologians and caregiving experts are
included to help bring balance to our unique situation in today’s
society.
LOOKING TO SCRIPTURE FIRST

The starting point for exploration of familial love and its relation-
ship to caregiving is Holy Scripture. Most direct and significant is
the fifth commandment that instructs us to
‘Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long
in the land the LORD your God is giving you.’
– Exodus 20:12 (NIV)
Perhaps we assume this commandment is directed to children who
have not reached adulthood; yet that appears not to be the case.
When God gave Moses the Ten Commandments, He instructed
273
274 ANNMARIE GIDUS-MECERA
Moses to ‘Speak unto all the company of the sons of Israel…’ (Le-
viticus 19:2). In her thesis, Counseling the Caregiver: Addressing the Bibli-
cal Responsibility and Care of Aging Parents, Holly Dean Drew points
out that the Hebrew word ‘ben’ is used for the word ‘sons’ in this
exhortation, which suggests that the commandments were directed
toward an adult population. If God meant any of the command-
ments to be directed to children, Dean says, the word ‘yeled’, mean-
ing ‘child,’ would have been more appropriate. 1
In his article ‘The Ten Commandments,’ Fr. Matrantonis says
that the fifth commandment is directed to children who are both
young and old. Fr. Matratonis explains that children are urged to
express their love to their parents, and especially honor them
throughout their lives. 2
Leviticus 19:32 implores us: ‘You shall rise up before the gray-
headed, and honor the aged…’ Proverbs 16:31 teaches that ‘A gray
head is a crown of glory; it is found in the way of righteousness.’
We hear the words ‘revere,’ ‘honor,’ and ‘glory,’ when the elderly
are discussed in these passages. These are words that are used in
reference to someone who deserves respect.
In his letter to Timothy, Paul instructs him by saying, ‘Anyone
who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their
own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliev-
er.’ (1 Tim 5:8) And more so Paul says in 1Timothy 5:4, ‘But if a
widow has children or grandchildren, these should learn first of all
to put their religion into practice by caring for their own family and
so repaying their parents and grandparents, for this is pleasing to
God.’ As a result of these passages, Drew draws the conclusion
that to avoid caring for one’s family is to deny the ‘Biblical princi-
ple of compassionate love that is the heart of the Christian faith’
that was demonstrated by God Himself, ‘For God so loved the
world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in
him shall not perish but have eternal life.’ (John 3:16).
1 Drew Holly Dean, ‘Counseling the Caregiver: Addressing the Bib-

lical Responsibility’. M.A.B.C. Thesis (Santa Clarita, Master’s College,
2002), p. 14.
2 Fr. Matrantonis. The Ten Commandments.
www.goarch.org/ourfaith/ourfaith7115
CAREGIVING AS AN EXPRESSION OF FAMILIAL LOVE 275
CHRIST AS THE OBEDIENT CHILD

Christ is the ideal example upon which we attempt to base our own
actions. Christ turned water into wine at the Wedding at Cana upon
his mother’s urging when the wine ran out (John 2:1–11). Although
Christ told His mother it was not yet time for Him to begin ful-
filling His ministry, He did as His mother asked – an undeniable
form of showing respect and honor.
What’s more, Christ was also concerned about his mother be-
ing taken care of. At the time of His Passion as He suffered on the
cross, Christ asked His beloved friend and discipline John to care
for her: ‘When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom
he loved standing nearby, he said to her, ‘Woman, here is your
son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’’From that time on,
this disciple took her into his home.’(John 19:26–27).
Fr. Richard Demetrius Andrews says that as children, we learn
humility by being obedient to our parents. This obedience, then,
teaches us ‘how to be humble before God and other people.’ This
is important, Fr. Andrews explains, because when we become
adults, we are ultimately going to be accountable to God – and we
learn how to be responsible and accountable through our relation-
ship with our parents. 3
When we become adults, Fr. Andrews continues, our obliga-
tion towards honor and humility does not stop. Another way to
honor our parents, Fr. Andrews says, ‘is to take care of them.’ He
goes as far as to say we should bring them into our own homes to
live with us when they cannot handle living on their own.
In the book Jewish Visions for Aging, Rabbi Dayle A. Friedman
says that the Leviticus passage (referenced earlier) that tells us to
‘revere our mother and father’ and the fifth commandment
demonstrate that ‘the obligations toward parents are linked directly
to our relationship to God … Perhaps the texts draw an analogy
between our obligations to parents and our obligations toward
3 Fr. R. D. Andrews, “Honor thy Father and Mother,” Orthodoxy

Today (2007):
http://www.orthodoxytoday.org/articles7/AndrewsParents.php
God.’ 4 Rabbi Friedman also states that ‘neither of these … requires

that we love our parents’, but ‘respectfully lend assistance to our parents.’
(Italics mine). What’s more, Rabbi Friedman discusses the need to
preserve our parents’ dignity (italics mine) as a way to show reverence.
In ‘Ethics at the Twilight of Life: Our Obligation to the El-
derly,’ Michael McKenzie points to both the Old Testament and
New Testament to support his belief that the elderly are part of
those who are least able to take care of themselves. ‘…God men-
tions widows and orphans among those who should be singled out
for special care and protection (Exod. 22:22; Deut. 27:19). Jesus
continues this pattern of divine care by heaping scorn on those
who would go so far as to foreclose on widows’ homes (Matt.
23:14). James even says that caring for widows and orphans are the
premier fruits of true worship of God (James 1:27).’ 5
THE IMPACT OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY

In his book The Gift of Love, Fr. Vladimir Berzonsky says, ‘Our cul-
ture today places a supreme value on freedom. Many feel that they
must never be restricted from doing whatever they wish. Such un-
limited freedom is possible, perhaps, provided a person is able to
resist the natural, humanizing need to love.’
‘Our young people today, and in fact all in this society,’ Fr.
Berzonsky continues, ‘are offered the hedonistic philosophy of fun
and lust, which passes for love, and are told that it can be had at a
low price … All ‘adults’ have the ‘right’ to free love – another
name for self-gratification without acceptance of the responsibility
for the well-being of the other, which true love entails including the
capacity for enduring the trauma of the end of real love, as when
death comes, or in the ability to share with the partner all the sor-
rows that he or she endures in a lifetime.’ 6
4 Dayle A. Friedman, Jewish Visions for Aging (Jewish Lights, 2008), p.

86.
5 Michael McKenzie, ‘Ethics at the Twilight of Life: Our Obligation
to the Elderly,’ Christian Research Journal 21, No. 4 (1999), 1–7, p. 2.
6 Vladimir Berzonsky, The Gift of Love (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's
Seminary Press, 1985), p. 36.

McKenzie, who was quoted earlier, also states that, ‘As the
devaluation of human life in Western culture continues to acceler-
ate, and American states debate and even approve the legalization
of euthanasia, Christians need to grapple with the responsibilities
involved in a serious pro-life ethic. One such responsibility con-
cerns our obligation to demonstrate Christian love to the elderly.’ 7
The temptation is to avoid that which is difficult, ties us
down, and robs us of our freedom to do what we want. This is par-
ticularly the case when we are empty nesters wanting to enjoy the
flexibility we did not have when our children were young or we had
work obligations. The task is made more difficult when we are
dealing with a parent or parents with whom our relationship is not
ideal. Perhaps there are unresolved tensions or lifestyles that are
very different. Yet this may be where the opportunity lies to
strengthen our relationship with God. In her article ‘In a Family,
Love Doesn't Always Mean Agreeing or Understanding’, Diana
Rodriquez says, ‘Nurturing and caring for familial relationships is
something everyone can always seek to improve. Family is the
greatest and most powerful concept human beings from every cor-
ner of the planet can understand and experience. It endures when
temporary things, like wealth, health, glory, and youth, fade.’ In the
case of strained relationships – even estrangement – can past hurts
and disagreements be put aside? ‘You don’t have to agree with, or
like a person, to feel great love for them as a member of a family,’
Rodriquez says. ‘Familial love is one of the greatest and strongest
bonds a person can experience. It defies logic and reason. It stands
up to great adversity and shows amazing resilience. It can be one of
the most selfless and inspiring examples of love and kindness. Fa-
milial love is not something easily explained. It is better to be expe-
rienced.’ 8
Archbishop Chrysostomos of Etna writes about how the Or-
thodox Church ‘exalts the family. The Church itself is often charac-
terized by the Fathers in images drawn from the family,’ Chrysos-
tomos says. ‘In the family, as in the Church, basic values are
7 McKenzie, ‘Ethics at the Twilight of Life,’ p. 1.

8 Diana Rodriquez, ‘In a Family, Love Doesn’t Always Mean Agree-
ing or Understanding,’ Adult Children Examiner (Oct. 2009).
formed, the soul is shaped and established, and the path of salva-
tion is set forth. The family is that warm place where the leaven of
the Faith is nurtured, where we first begin to rise to full life in
Christ. It is for this reason that every Bishop, every Priest, every
monastic, and all pious laymen remember, in their daily prayers,
their mothers and fathers, that their ‘days may be long on the
earth.’ It is for this reason that, even after their repose, we remem-
ber our fathers and mothers and family members, praying for them
fervently and, in our prayers, reaching across the chasm of death to
be with them even in the afterlife, in the spiritual world. So special
is the family that we remember those in error and heresy and sin
even more dearly than those upright and unwavering in the Faith.
This is the wonder of the family.’ 9
THE BLESSING BEHIND AGING

As we age, we lose many of our faculties that we took for granted.
Our minds are not as sharp; our joints ache; we begin to develop
medical complications; and once we ‘retire’, society does not have
the same regard for us, or have the same level of ‘need’ for what we
can offer. Technology changes and we can’t keep up. We resist
change and embrace familiarity. Our world begins to shrink, we
want to live in the same house we’ve lived in for forty years, we
won’t always make wise decisions, and we trust fewer and fewer
people.
What good can possibly come from such weakness then? In 2
Cor 4:16, we learn, ‘Therefore we do not lose heart. Though out-
wardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by
day.’ Rabbi Boruch Leff says this powerlessness we experience as
we become less independent reveals the true person. While today’s
society embraces physical beauty, strength and youth, Rabbi Leff
refers to Rabbi Judah Loew, The Maharal of 16th Century Prague
who was esteemed by both Jews and non-Jews. The Maharal sheds
light on how the beauty of the soul emerges as physical beauty
wanes. ‘In youth, the body’s physicality tends to control a person.
9Archbishop Chrysostomos of Etna, “The Orthodox Family,” The

Orthodox Tradition 4, No. 2, 34–36, p. 34.
We are prey to hedonistic urges and impulses. As those physical

forces weaken, that which is distinctively human about us, our soul,
becomes the influential drive in our lives. This is the wisdom we
attain in old age…’ 10
THE MANY FACES OF CAREGIVING

As stated previously, Christ serves as the ideal example for us to
strive to imitate. Each family is unique, however; each caregiver,
each parent, and each caregiving situation is unique. The extent to
which caregiving in the home environment can be taken on will
vary depending on resources, financial considerations, emotional
strength and more. While it may be the ideal for the parent to have family
tical. Each of us must draw on our faith and prayer to make the
members care for them outside of a nursing home facility, this may not be prac-
best decision.
Regardless of where our parents carry out their end days,
there are qualities we can adopt to help them enjoy security, peace
and comfort – qualities that are basic to their well-being. In My
Mother, Your Mother, Dennis McGullough, MD, says, ‘Because of
the ultimate powerlessness and dependency, indeed the utter frailty
of the old and infirm, kindness (italics mine) is the fundamental po-
sition that a caregiver has to sustain.’ In fact, he precedes this
statement by saying, ‘…kindness (italics mine) is the single most reli-
able ethical and practical guide to doing this work well.’
The goal of offering kindness is also expressed in the book
Stages on Life’s Way by Jon and Lynn Breck. While this book specifi-
cally deals with caring for the dying, much of the insight can also
pertain to those who are in their end years. The Brecks state, ‘The
thread that connects these reflections (end-of-life issues), at least in
my mind, is that of care. In more biblical language, the question is
how we can offer to dying patients a depth and quality of love (italics
mine) that will most effectively guide them along the final stages of
the pathway that leads from this earthly existence to life in the
10 Rabbi Boruch Leff, “Learn Something Jewish: Respecting Your

Elders,” originally published at Aish.com, 2005.
kingdom of God.’ 11 The Brecks later address the importance of

helping the dying person take care of his/her practical affairs –
funeral plans, finalizing the will, etc. ‘More important than any of
these questions, however, is the need for ongoing signs of compas-
sion and love (italics mine).’ The Brecks point out that while it might
not always be possible for the medical profession to cure, it is al-
ways possible for them to care. This is also the case for us as adult
children. ‘It is that single-minded focus on compassionate care that
will enable us most appropriately and most effectively to offer the
life of the dying patient into God’s loving and merciful safekeep-
ing.’ 12
Rodriquez also says the role of the caregiver is to assist, en-
courage, counsel, and provide hope. 13 Sometimes we get so caught
up in the mundane tasks of driving our parents to appointments,
cooking, cleaning, and counting out their medications that we for-
get the simplest things: compassion, listening, sharing, laughter, and
touching. And if we think our parents have nothing more to offer
in their ‘golden’ years, we are wrong. Their purpose is to impart
wisdom and knowledge 14; we should be open to receiving it.
The care given by the Christian adult child can provide the ul-
timate in comfort, familiarity, and reassurance to the parent in
his/her end years. Yet providing this care in kindness is not always
easy. There is the parent who incessantly repeats herself, is forget-
ful, needs to be taken to countless doctors’ appointments, needs
help bathing, doesn’t want to bathe, and/or is incontinent. Often
there are hurts and ills that have not been healed between the par-
ent and adult child. Something – usually many things – will cause
the caregiving role to become tedious, stressful, draining and often
unfulfilling. And yet, if we carry on, it is possible to reap benefits.
11 John and Lynn Breck, Stages on Life’s Way: Orthodox Thinking on Bio-
ethics (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2012), p.214.
12 Ibid., p. 230.
13 Diana Rodriquez, “In a family, love doesn’t always mean agreeing
or understanding,”
http://saynotomean.blogspot.ru/2012/01/in-family-love-doesnt-always-
mean.html
14 Ibid.
COULD THIS BE OUR GOOD FIGHT?

Each caregiver will have his or her own unique set of challenges
that will stress, tempt, drain and exhaust him/her. Yet there is in-
deed something valuable to gain that is directly related to our rela-
tionship with Christ and our salvation.
In the book The Meaning of Suffering, Strife & Reconciliation, Ar-
chimandrite Seraphim Aleksiev states that ‘God has created us not
for sorrow, but for joy,’ 15 and that we can find joy in sorrow. The
source of suffering is the devil, he explains, while God is the source
of joy. Thus, ‘even the sorrows which come to us according to
God’s will in this temporary life carry in themselves joy and lead to
heavenly glory if they are endured with faith and trust in God’s good provi-
dence.’ (Italics mine) Archimandrite Aleksiev contrasts this with the
temporary pleasures that the devil tempts us with and that end in
disappointment. Here, I am likening sorrow to that which we expe-
rience as we care for our parents. It may be the sorrow of seeing
them age and lose their independence; or sorrow as a result of our
struggles as a caregiver. Admittedly, embracing this theology can be
difficult when dealing with a parent who does not want to give up
driving, wanders off, or is the reason you quit your job. Archiman-
drite Aleksiev shares the example of the saints, however, in how
they faced suffering and temptation: ‘All the saints have en-
dured…with faith and hope in God’s good providence. They were
not scared by the temporary hardships which brought them closer
to God, but were afraid only of sin which tears the soul away from
grace and happiness to throw it into the abyss of eternal suffer-
ing.’ 16 He also points to Romans 8:18 which says, ‘I consider that
our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that
will be revealed in us.’
Perhaps the greatest reason we endure struggles of any kind,
Archimandrite Aleksiev says, is for the patience it brings, which
leads to humility, which can ultimately lead to our salvation. We enter
into the kingdom of God through much tribulation, we are told in
15 Seraphim Aleksiev, The Meaning of Suffering, Strife & Reconciliation

(Platina, CA: Saint Herman Press, 1997), p. 18.
16 Ibid., p. 26.
Acts 14:22. On the contrary, grumbling comes from pride, and we

surely cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven if we are prideful.
There is ‘no greater teacher of patience than sorrows’; and life’s
sufferings humble us enough to allow us to enter the Kingdom of
Heaven.’ 17 In fact, Archimandrite Aleksiev points out that early
Christians expected suffering to be sent to them and were upset
when they were without it 18 because they believed that suffering
kept them from forgetting God. In Luke 21:18 we are reminded
that nothing happens without God’s will; so that God is fully aware
of the task we have taken on in caring for our parents. But we are
warned that ‘only suffering which is endured patiently, with grati-
tude and trust in God, and without grumbling’ 19 is beneficial. Car-
ing for a parent provides many daily opportunities to practice this
type of patience!
‘The Orthodox Church views suffering as a consequence of
our broken and sinful condition that comes to human beings in
various ways,’ Stanley Samuel Harakas says, citing that the most
obvious is human mortality. ‘However, it also views suffering as
potentially redemptive, if understood and accepted in the frame-
work of spiritual growth toward Godlikeness.’ 20
In his 21st Homily regarding marriage and family life, St. John
Chrysostom says that all of the commandments God gave us were
designed to keep us away from evil. The fifth commandment, how-
ever, is unique in that it ‘…concerns something good, so a reward
is promised for those who keep it. See what an admirable founda-
tion St. Paul lays for a virtuous life; honor and respect for one’s
parents. This is the first good practice commanded us in the Scrip-
tures, because before all others, except God, our parents are the
authors of our life, and they deserve to be the first ones to receive
17 Ibid., p. 39.
18 Ibid, p. 48.
19 Ibid, p. 50.
20 Stanley Samuel Harakas, ‘Religious Beliefs and Healthcare Deci-
sions.’ in The Orthodox Christian Tradition: Religious Traditions and Healthcare

Decisions. Handbook Series (The Park Ridge Center for the Study of
Health, Faith and Ethics, 1999).
the fruits of our good deeds. Only after we honor our parents can we do
Fr Berzonsky says we cannot care for an aging parent if we

anything good for the rest of mankind.’
strive for freedom. But when we avoid self-gratification and face

sacrifice, he explains, we are then able to experience ‘real love’.
This can happen when we manage to embrace the short season of
caring for an aging parent. 21
Rodriquez also states that caregiving allows us to ponder our
own mortality and end. What’s more, the tribulation we experience
in caregiving builds maturity that produces perseverance, hope and
love for God. 22
The manner in which we take on our task can make all the dif-
ference in the outcome. In the book They’re YOUR Parents, Too!,
author Francine Russo reveals what she learned by interviewing
adult children caring for their aging parents. ‘I found that how pun-
ishing, how satisfying, or even how joyful people found parent care
depended not on how many hours they spend doing it, how much
money they had, or where they did it. What mattered more? The
complex mix of emotions they brought to their role, their history in
their family and especially with the mother or father they were car-
ing for. In other words what we need from parent care – often with-
out realizing it – colors the meanings we give it. It profoundly affects our
ability to cope, to set reasonable limits for ourselves, and to get
help when we need it.’
THE ROLE OF THE COMMUNITY

In earlier generations, parents died at a much earlier age, minimiz-
ing or even nullifying the need for an adult child to provide care. If
parents did live to reach old age, the family lived close enough that
there was typically always enough family members to share in the
help. Often, a single daughter was given the task of taking care of
the parents. The proximity of family meant someone was always
there to assist, provide respite, and offer physical and emotional
support.
21 Berzonsky, The Gift of Love, p. 36.

22 Rodriquez, “In a family,” p. 73.
Today’s society, however, is different. Far-spread families and

increase life expectancies can result in extreme stress for the con-
temporary family. Because siblings rarely all live in the same city
(when there ARE siblings), the responsibility often falls on a single
person.
It is impractical to take on this task alone. An army of re-
sources is often necessary. This can include a committed prayer
life, connection to the church community with at least one or two
people within the parish who can serve as support, a counselor
versed in geriatrics, familiarity with aging agencies and organiza-
tions, and the opportunity to regularly step away from the role.
In his article ‘The Spiritual Gifts – and Burdens – of Family
Caregiving,’ Kenneth Doka states, ‘When we have to rely on oth-
ers, it requires humility. But it also connects us to others. And there
is joy in having others help us.’ 23
The temptation can exist to refuse the assistance of others;
but this can be detrimental to both the caregiver and the parent,
since the stresses accompanying caregiving can be debilitating.
Both the physical and mental well-being of the caregiver is neces-
sary and cannot typically be attained if unreasonable expectations
are thrust upon the caregiver – personally or by someone else. If we
are to practice kindness towards a parent, we must practice kindness towards
The amount and type of help needed can vary. Some people
ourselves also.
do not require the assistance of a skilled aide or nurse, so it is pos-

sible to hire someone to assist with daily chores or to sit with the
aging parent. Others will need the help of skilled staff for bathing
and other personal grooming tasks. Alternatives also exist for low-
income senior citizens, as well as those whose income is too high
to qualify for Medicaid but too low to afford a nurse’s aide. Each
state is unique in the programs it provides to caregivers wanting
alternatives to nursing homes. The state of Ohio, for example, of-
fers PASSPORT, which helps low-income, disabled older adults to
remain at home. PASSPORT is Medicaid-waiver eligible and offers
assistance with personal care such as bathing, driving, and prepar-
23Kenneth Doka, ‘The Spiritual Gifts – and Burdens – of Family

Caregiving.’ American Society on Aging 27, No. 24 (2007): 45–48, p.45.
ing meals. CHOICES is another program that allows children of

low-income parents to hire individual providers such as friends,
neighbors or relatives to help care for their parents. Ohio County
offices on aging also offer resources to help elderly people avoid
nursing homes. Resources like federal caregiver-grant programs
help with respite care, counseling or adult day care. Adult children
can refer to their local Area Agency on Aging to begin researching
the alternatives available for keeping a parent at home.
Each situation is unique and situations can arise when it is not
reasonable or safe to keep a parent at home. We can still fulfill the
commandment to honor our father and mother, however. We must
be reminded of McGullough’s statement that kindness is funda-
mental, and Breck’s conviction that compassion and love are essen-
tial. At the end of the day, this may be all we can offer – yet it can
be everything.
CONCLUSION
Caring for parents can be a most challenging undertaking. Yet if we
allow it, caregiving can have a profound spiritual effect on us.
Caregiving builds perseverance, hope and love for God. We can
experience joy in knowing we gave our parents comfort, kindness
and compassion in their last days. Caregiving can transform us; it
can provide us with the humility required to enter into the King-
dom of Heaven.
Contemplating our duties as a caregiver requires setting aside
time to pray, seek counsel, find support, and take respite. God ex-
pects us to care for our parents as they become feeble and lose
their self-sufficiency. It requires that we throw off our pride and
selfishness in order to demonstrate kindness, compassion and em-
pathy to our parents.
Our parents will look to us for comfort, support and security.
We may need to help them prepare spiritually for their entrance
into the Heavenly Kingdom. We may be able to offer them nothing
more than honor, respect and kindness – but this can be everything
they need. Caring for our parents can also prepare us to enter into
the Kingdom of Heaven. As a result of the sacrifices we make, we
can be transformed. Our pride can be diminished; we can discover
humility; we can find joy in sacrifice; we can learn patience – all
necessary characteristics for entering into the Kingdom of Heaven.
‘Be sure that you dearly love your parents; delight to be in their
company … Remember that you have your being from them
and come out of their loins; remember what sorrow you have
cost them, and what care they are at for your education and
provision; and remember how tenderly they have loved you …
remember what love you owe them both by nature and in jus-
tice, for all their love to you, and all that they have done for
you: they take your happiness or misery to be one of the great-
est parts of the happiness or misery of their own lives.’
TOWARD A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF
THE CLERGY COUPLE
KERRY PAPPAS
The content for this brief article is informed by a variety of
sources, which include: anecdotal information gathered from
clergy wives and couples, the personal experience of the au-
thor, and general findings of research on clergy couples from
a variety of sources. As such, this is not an academic paper,
and sources will not be cited. The purpose of this article is
to offer insight into some of the blessings and challenges cler-
gy couples encounter.
Increasingly, the marriages of clergy couples are in distress. This
reality is manifested in the growing number of divorces among
clergy and the decreasing number of clergy marriages that outward-
ly reflect life and vitality. In the Orthodox Church, unlike other
Christian churches, divorce statistics among clergy are not system-
atically maintained; thus, evidence for these disturbing trends is
presently anecdotal. Furthermore, unlike the practice of other
Christian churches, where divorced clergy are allowed to remarry
and remain in ordained ministry (depending on the circumstances
of the divorce), the divorced Orthodox priest cannot remarry and
remain a priest. He must choose between the two.
In the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America, a growing
awareness of marital distress among clergy couples has prompted
its leadership to take several initiatives, which include an assess-
ment of the impact of the stressors of ministry on priests and
presvyteres and funding for an intentional ministry to seminarian
and clergy couples. The specifics of this ministry are just beginning
to evolve as information is gathered.
Clergy couples generally regard the opportunity to be present
with people at the time of the most significant events in their lives
287
288 KERRY PAPPAS
– weddings, births, baptisms, sickness, crisis and death – to be the

greatest blessing of their lives in ministry. In the best circumstanc-
es, the presence of the priest (and his wife, if she is inclined) is re-
quested in times of joy and sorrow. For example, still to this day,
even with decreasing church attendance in America, the pastor is
often the first person contacted when a marriage is in distress. Un-
fortunately, however, by the time the priest is contacted, the couple
is often on the verge of divorce, if not already civilly divorced. Fur-
thermore, those who are connected to the life of the Church, even
marginally, tend to ‘return’ to the Church for marriage, the 40–day
blessing of an infant, baptism, illness, and death. In these instances,
both the priest and his wife are given the opportunity to reach out
and be the living presence of Christ. Boundless opportunities to
serve Christ by reaching out to others in times of joy and sorrow
are ‘built in’ to the life of the clergy couple.
Clergy couples also face some very difficult challenges and
struggles. These include but are not limited to boundary issues and
seemingly endless time demands and expectations. Unfortunately,
clergy couples often grapple with these challenges and struggles in
isolation. To paraphrase an oft-quoted reality of clergy life: ‘Minis-
try is the loneliest vocation.’
In the last 20 years, a growing number of clergy have di-
vorced. In my own archdiocese, the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese
of America, about 60–70% of clergy have divorced in the last 25
years. And, I have heard from reliable sources in Greece that the
number of clergy divorces is also growing there.
Unlike the impact of the divorce of a lay person, the divorce
of a priest has a greater impact on the body of Christ. Not only
does the family suffer, but parishes are left to heal, and shock
waves are felt throughout the national church, as those who are
looked upon as models of Christian life experience brokenness. For
those who remain married, some are either in distressed or static
marriages. Clergy wives sometimes resign themselves to the per-
ceived reality that they: ‘are single moms,’ ‘have husbands who are
workaholics,’ ‘are competing with a mistress with whom they can-
not compete – the church,’ (some even give up because they be-
lieve they are competing with God for their husband’s attention).
These couples may live parallel lives with some sense of partner-
ship for household duties and the raising of children.
A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF THE CLERGY COUPLE 289
Others, upon entering parish life, are so overwhelmed by the

challenges they face, bond with each other in their struggle, offer-
ing ‘support’ in the form of commiserating misery. They quickly
become embittered, and the bitterness grows and festers as time
passes. I remember being in the presence of a group of several old-
er and seasoned clergy wives when I was younger. What I remem-
ber most about that gathering was how much bitterness and anger I
sensed. I promised myself that I would never become like these
clergy wives. As the years have passed, however, I now better un-
derstand how bitterness, anger and cynicism can grow and fester if
we do not guard against them. For some the struggles keep com-
ing; for others, the road is a bit smoother. However, the key to the
well-being of the clergy couple is not how difficult the road is. It is
rather, how the couple, personally and collectively, responds to the
unique stressors inherent to the clergy marriage.
Some clergy couples are intentional and deliberate in nurtur-
ing, guarding and growing their marriages. They choose to live the
sacramental reality of marriage, that is, intentionally seeking one-
ness, salvation, and sanctification. Furthermore, they practice
healthy, holy personal and couple care, with healthy and life-giving
rhythms of prayer, work, intimacy, Sabbath, acts of mercy, and lei-
sure. They seek help when needed, grow and nurture healthy
friendships, and build a support system around them.
In the Orthodox Christian understanding of marriage, two
persons are joined by Christ and become ‘one flesh,’ sharing a per-
sonal, private and intimate life in the context of community. Let us
now look at the unique challenges of clergy couples in this three-
dimensional framework of marriage: the person, the couple, and
the couple in their social context.
As already mentioned, research clearly shows that the seem-
ingly endless demands and expectations of time placed on the
priest is one of the greatest challenges he and, by extension, his
wife must face daily. Priests, and often their wives, become so con-
sumed with ‘doing’ that they forget about ‘being.’ Many neglect
personal prayer, solitude, Sabbath and continued learning. ‘Being in
Christ’ can get lost in doing the ‘work of Christ.’
If we look at the life of Jesus, we see a man who took time to
be alone with his Father. Time and again, we read that ‘Jesus often
withdrew to lonely places and prayed’ (Luke 5:16, NIV). Addition-
ally, we know that he ate a healthy Mediterranean diet and walked
290 KERRY PAPPAS
nearly everywhere he went. Finally, we know that Jesus had good

friends. He had his inner circle of Peter, James and John with
whom he was most intimate, the larger circle of the 12 disciples
and others who followed him, and friends such as Lazarus, Mary
and Martha.
In contemporary terms, Jesus practiced healthy, holy self-care
– taking time alone to grow his relationship with his Father in
prayer, eating healthfully, exercising, and engaging in meaningful
relationships with others. He was a healthy, whole person who gave
of himself sacrificially, to the point of laying down his life for us; he
gave from a place of fullness, as both man and God.
From what do we give as clergy couples? Do we give from a
place of fullness, or do we often give from tanks that are either half
or nearly empty? Recognizing the need for clergy couples to attend
to issues of well-being, several years ago, the Greek Orthodox
Archdiocese instituted wellness workshops at the clergy laity con-
gresses. These workshops focus on spiritual, physical, emotional,
relational and mental well-being. Furthermore, annual clergy and
clergy wives’ retreats have been instituted that focus on all aspects
of well-being.
The multi-faceted demands of parish life make it difficult for
priests and their wives to practice healthy, holy self-care and be
healthy, holy people, following the example of Christ. If we are
calling our priests, and by extension their wives, to lovingly, sacrifi-
cially and humbly serve their flock, then they must be encouraged
to take care of themselves. Elements of this care include: a day of
Sabbath; time away from the parish – daily, weekly, and yearly to
decompress and be reenergized; and, opportunities to retreat. The
healthier the priest and his wife, the better the quality of his minis-
try. In the words of Father Vasileios Thermos, a practicing psychia-
trist and priest in the Church of Greece, ‘The clergy couple is the
touch-stone of the quality of our pastoral ministry.’
For the clergy couple, the intimate, personal, private relation-
ship is challenged by all three of the primary struggles indicated by
research: time demands/expectations; the blurring of boundaries
between the parish and the couple; and isolation. The time de-
mands and expectations of the parish on the priest, combined with
the internal expectations the priest has of himself, often leave little
time for his wife and the nurture and growth of their relationship.
Any energy left is often directed toward the children. For clergy
couples, the demands are heightened because the priest is on call

24/7, with the exception of vacation time. Even then, if a death or
emergency occurs in the parish, and the priest is within driving dis-
tance from home, he may leave his vacation to attend to the needs
of his parishioners. The wife can be left feeling as if she gets the
crumbs of her husband’s attention.
Complicating the situation of the clergy family is the under-
standing of both husband and wife that the husband is doing God’s
work, and if the husband or wife or both want to devote more at-
tention and care to their marriage, he, she, or they may feel guilty
for taking time from the parish for themselves and each other. The
clergy couple can fall to the temptation of taking their marriage for
granted. Just as each person in the marriage is called to healthy,
holy self-care, the marriage, by virtue of its sacramental nature, is
also called to healthy, holy care and nurture. It is not a competition
between the marriage of husband and wife and the marriage of the
husband to the parish. It is both, and the couple must understand
that by the grace of God, they have entered into a life of sacrifice,
both for each other and for the flock that has been entrusted to the
husband’s care.
Finally, all couples live in the context of relationships – to ex-
tended family, friends, work colleagues, neighbors, and church
communities. The clergy couple is in a unique situation in regard to
the community of faith, as the ‘workplace’ of the husband is also
the place of worship, socialization and spiritual nurture for his wife
and family. As such:
1. The husband leads the worship in the place where his wife
and family worship; thus the family does not worship ‘to-
gether’ as other families do.
2. The clergy couple lives in what has been coined as a ‘glass
bowl.’ They live a public life. They are held to a higher
standard, expected to set the example for spirituality, per-
sonhood, marriage and family life. The husband’s salary is
public domain. This ‘glass house’ syndrome leads some
clergy couples to portray a false public façade, when in
fact, they may be experiencing immense suffering in their
personal lives.
292 KERRY PAPPAS
3. As public figures, many clergy couples lead very isolated

and lonely lives, a seeming contradiction given the public
nature of the priest’s vocation.
4. Some clergy maintain that it is inappropriate to have
friends in the parish. Others maintain that friendships can
be cultivated and nurtured, but with clear boundaries.
5. Sometimes the people in the parish put the priest and his
family at arm’s length, seeing them as people of God, set
apart, not like ‘us,’ thus making the cultivation of appro-
priate friendships difficult.
6. Some clergy couples work hard at cultivating friendships
with other clergy couples, claiming that they are the only
people with whom they can be completely themselves and
not hold back. For some, these friendships are lifelines
that deflect the day-to-day isolation; for others, these rela-
tionships have little daily impact, particularly for those liv-
ing in more isolated areas where Orthodox churches are
sparse.
7. Adding to the isolation is the reality that many clergy cou-
ples often do not live near their extended families; this iso-
lation is sometimes heightened on holidays when, because
of the schedule of worship services and other circumstanc-
es, the clergy family may not be able to enjoy the presence
and embrace of family.
Upon reflection, it is evident that the clergy couple experiences
many of the same blessings and challenges that all married couples
encounter. Unlike other couples, however, the context in which the
clergy couple lives out their marriage is different from that of the
faithful lay couple and presents some unique blessings and chal-
lenges.
For some clergy couples, the challenges stated are struggles
that lead to dismay; for others, they are struggles that present op-
portunities for couples to be proactive, deliberate and intentional
about nurturing and growing their marriage. In fact, some couples
view these struggles as blessings, prompting them to work with
each other to find creative ways to build closeness and intimacy
into their marriages and to seek God more fervently through more
intentional prayer.
This brief overview has only begun to scratch the surface of
the challenges clergy couples encounter in their personal lives and
marriages as they fulfill their call to ministry, which is, in reality, a
‘mutual ministry.’ Whether the wife of the priest is publicly visible
and active in the life of the parish, or whether she chooses to be a
more silent partner, she, too, is called to a life of sacrifice beside
and with her husband. Along with the sacrifice, by the grace of
God, it is a life of abundant joy that presents boundless opportuni-
ties to serve and grow in Christ.
‘THE BEGINNING OF WISDOM IS TO FEAR
THE LORD, AND SHE WAS JOINED
WITH THE FAITHFUL IN THE WOMB.’
WSIR 1:12
THE THEOLOGY OF CHILDREN, AN
INSIGHT FROM THE OLD AND THE
NEW TESTAMENTS 1
VICKI PETRAKIS
The theology of children is about each person’s calling – Judges
13:25. The story of life begins with birth, genesis. The Christian
understanding of childhoodness is the story of this genesis and call-
ing which incorporates a physical birth and the embodiment of
logos to the human condition for spiritual growth and discernment
according to a pattern, a taxis. Within the Christian perspective this
intelligence accounts for a physical and spiritual awakening, a re-
birth into a deified outcome and the fulfillment of the Seal of the
Holy Spirit through the Baptismal waters. The theology of children
is not an appendix to the Orthodox Christian holistic outlook, but
the central tenant to its doctrinal and practical application of the
faith. It encapsulates the understanding and practice needed to be-
1 All Scriptural references are taken from The Orthodox Study Bible (St.
Athanasius Academy of Orthodox Theology, 2008). Scripture taken from
the St. Athanasius Academy Septuagint™. Copyright © 2008 by St. Atha-
nasius Academy of Orthodox Theology. Used by permission. All rights
reserved. / Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copy-
right © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights re-
served.
295
296 VICKI PETRAKIS
coming part of an ecclesiastical taxis that is embodied in Christ the

Logos. The basis of this theology is founded in the Scriptures. This
paper will examine the theology of children based on the Old and
New Testaments.
The theology of children stems from God’s distinct relation-
ship with his people identified in the Old Testament as his ‘chil-
dren’. Within the first book of Genesis we find both the birth of
life but also its destruction (Cf. Genesis 1, 2 and 7). There we see
the beginnings of life disrupted before it even begins. Could it be
that God has high expectations from his children? Could it be that
there is more to this Father-child relationship than has been real-
ised? In Exodus 20.2 for example, before setting out a moral code
which His people can relate to, God reveals the nature of His pur-
pose and desire,
‘I am the Lord your God … You shall have no other gods be-
fore Me … I, the Lord you God, am a Jealous God…’
Further, Moses, God’s Son by adoption and the man of the Holy
Spirit defines in Deuteronomy God’s paternal role and His re-
quirement of obedience from his children,
‘They sinned; the blameworthy children are not His … Is this
how you repay the Lord, O foolish and unwise people? Is He
not your Father who acquired you? Has He not made and cre-
ated you?’ (Deuteronomy 32:5–6)
This notion of ‘acquisition’ after turning their back on their Father
suggests that His attitude is more benevolent and nurturing than it
first appears. In the passages that follow (Deuteronomy 32:10–14)
the Father also rewards his children when they are obedient. These
rewards come in the form of protection and nourishment and are
granted to Jacob and his line who have found favour with God.
Equally important as Moses reveals, are the sins of the seal of Ja-
cob which attract the wrath of God (Deuteronomy 32:15–38). The
Father is a parent in every sense of the word. He requires obedi-
ence, rewards his children but also sanctions and corrects their sins.
Moses is not exempt from this pedagogy. In Deuteronomy
32:51 we read that due to his own shortfalls he attracts the parent-
ing skills of the astute Father and is denied access to the land of
Canaan (Deut. 32:52, cf. Deut. 34:4) What precisely were Moses’
THE THEOLOGY OF CHILDREN 297
transgressions? The theme is not new and is indeed consistent with

the Father’s requirements as outlined previously,
‘…because you disobeyed My word among the children of Is-
rael during the Water of Contention at Kadesh in the Desert of
Sin, and because you did not sanctify Me in the midst of the
children of Israel.’ (Deuteronomy 32:51)
The Father’s expectations are more clearly outlined here. It is not
merely the requirement to worship God and no other, but here is
introduced a more apostolic and liturgical approach to relating to
God. The requirements of obedience to the Word and sanctifying
God are the twin pillars of the Father-child or the Father-Church
relationship and the basis of all pedagogical expectations. Pedagogy
however, is not one-sided. It entails a more intimate and personal
level of experiencing parental initiatives and guidance. We see this
in the Old Testament approach through the promises of Isaiah.
The book of Isaiah distinctly divides yet connects the two
Biblical Testaments. In relation to the theology of the child the
importance of Isaiah is to usher in something deeper and pro-
foundly personal to the Father in His role as pedagogue and as
someone who is personally vested in what He loves. If the expecta-
tion of the child has so far been to obey the Word and sanctify
God, the Father’s loyalty is witnessed yet again in more virtual, per-
sonal and unimaginative tones,
‘Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: behold, the
virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and you shall call His
name Immanuel.’ (Isaiah 7:14)
What the OT promises the NT delivers through the divine-human
Person of Jesus. In the NT a clearer understanding of the Father’s
position with respect to the theology of the child is initiated. Mat-
thew begins with the human genealogy of Jesus. It is interesting to
note the marked contrast between the Old and the New Testa-
ments, the former identifying a heavenly sign, the latter subjecting
this into human terms and ancestry. The paradox of this proposal
is uniquely characteristic of a jealous God, and an untamed love.
God subjects Himself into creation, not in mature years, but as a
new born babe to highlight yet again the rudimentary element of all
Biblical faith exemplified in the paradigm of the child,
298 VICKI PETRAKIS
‘He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. But
as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become
children of God, to those who believed in His name: who were
born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will
of man, but of God.’ (John 1:11–13)
The physical birth of God as a child highlights the Father-child
relationship that was espoused in the Old Testament and mandated
in the New. The crucial development however was that this child
was connected in essence to the Godhead so for didactic purposes
in understanding the Orthodox perspective of the child, the Person
of Jesus assumed the example and the primacy in facilitating the
relationship which the Father expected from His children. Thus in
the New Testament we come to a more subtle understanding of
the expectations and outcomes of the relationship between Father
and child as revealed through Christ.
The Book of Isaiah provides another key feature to a mature
appreciation of the theology of the child. In facilitating the transi-
tion from a God who reveals Himself to one who Incarnates, the
NT arrives to a closer understanding and teaching of the unique
attributes of this theology. The seeds of change are implanted in
Isaiah 7: 15–16,
‘Butter and honey He shall eat before He knows to prefer evil
or choose the good, for before the Child knows good or evil,
He refuses the evil to choose the good;’
Butter and honey represent the necessity of the Father’s role as
pedagogue. This child chooses the good before It is able to distin-
guish between good and evil suggesting that there is a deeper con-
nection between God and the human condition. The theology of
the child is thus intricately connected with a state of innocence and
a non-discriminative capacity to align oneself by nature with the
good, as will be explicated in the NT. There, the same theology as
Isaiah is utilised to elucidate on Christ’s origins, our destiny and the
methodology of creating a bond between the two. If in the OT it
was obedience to the Word and the sanctification of God that cap-
tured this essence, the practical application of these was delivered
in the NT through Christ’s own Personhood, and regard for chil-
dren.
The Incarnation of Jesus supports a transition in the under-

standing of Being and the existent. One which is directly linked to
the Father’s pedagogy aimed at some purpose. The work God cre-
ated in Genesis finds a destiny, a continuation and a synergetic im-
petus between Himself and His children through Christ in creation.
In Galatians 4:4–7 Paul considers the theological transition of the
children of God being ‘adopted’ by the Father through Christ,
‘Even so we, when we were children, were in bondage under
the elements of the world. But when the fullness of the time
had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born
under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that
we might receive the adoption as sons.’
Paul’s expectation was that God would sanctify the human person
and all creation through their personal becoming children of God.
It is this that renders to humankind the status of being likened to
an adopted child, an expectation echoed throughout the NT in re-
lation to a new creation. In Ephesians 1:4–6 Paul considers this
adoption paramount and links it back to Genesis,
‘…just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the
world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him
in love, having predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus
Christ to Himself … to the praise of the glory of His grace, by
which he made us accepted in the Beloved.’
In Romans 8:18–21 he reiterates this salvific message and the
promise of adoption/recreation,
‘For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed
in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly awaits
for the revealing of the sons of God … creation itself also will
be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious
liberty of the children of God.’
Jesus takes up the metaphor of the child, to reveal to his disciples
the Christian message of faith, hope and love for the things that are
and the things that will abound, but also through what means ones
state of childhoodness will be received.
In Matthew 3:17 we see the capacity of Jesus’ own relation-
ship to the Father. At 6:8 He facilitates this relationship on behalf
300 VICKI PETRAKIS
of all people. He invites children to his ministry. In both Matthew

and Luke he rebukes his disciples for sanctioning children from his
presence, ‘Let the little children come to Me…’ (Luke 18:15 and
Matthew 19:13). When speaking to his disciples Christ turns to
them and says, ‘…whoever does not receive the kingdom of God
as a child will by no means enter it’ (Luke 18:17). There He imparts
important wisdom with deep theological roots concerning humani-
ty and the way of its becoming. Jesus emphasises in this passage a
state of being which can be likened to an attitude of impassivity
and innocence and the adoption and welcoming of an ordered uni-
verse that provides for needs and outcomes. The disposition of
being a child is an attribute that facilitates one’s becoming heaven-
ly, however, in John 3:3 there is an awareness that the ageing pro-
cess in the human condition hinders this becoming. Accordingly
John writes, ‘‘Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again,
he cannot see the kingdom of God.’’
The means of becoming a new creation, adopted, and heaven-
ly is directly linked to the Father’s work and purpose (cf. Romans
8:28–30). The theology of the child in the NT is supported by the
divine stature of Jesus through which the continuation of the Fa-
ther’s work in the Holy Spirit enables creation to be received as
adopted and to purport a living relationship with God (cf. Ephe-
sians 1:7–2:10). In Romans 8:14 Paul delivers clearly how one is to
be considered a child of God, ‘For as many as are led by the Spirit
of God, these are sons of God.’ Thus it is God Himself Who
works in the human person to enable them to espouse a relation-
ship with Him (cf. Romans 8:16; 8:26–27).
In several places the NT reveals that the human person who is
led into adoption as children/Sons of God accept and acknowledge
the Father. In Galatians 4:6–8, Paul writes, ‘And because you are
sons, God had sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts,
crying out, ‘Abba, Father!’’ In Romans 8:15, Paul supports the
same, ‘For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear,
but you received the spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba,
Father.’’
The central theme of the NT is the link it provides between
God and His creation through the theology of children. This the-
ology does not remain stagnant but captures a living relationship
between Creator and created. We see in the OT the love of the
Father for His children, a voice echoed through the prophets that
is unyielding. The NT (and Greek philosophy) show however that

the incarnational presence of the divine was physically required in
order to lift and allow these children to be adopted by the Father.
As Peter writes,
‘Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of
God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to
us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the
knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue, by which
have been given to us exceedingly great and precious promises,
that through these you may be partakers of the divine na-
ture…’ (2 Peter 1:2–4)
Christ reveals a new message for the children of God. In Matthew
25:34 he delivers a plan for salvation and good works on the basis
of the New Testament’s twin commandments to love God and to
love His creation. There he ties the theology of the child to philan-
thropic causes shifting the emphasis from an exclusive, untenable
and remote God to one found in physis and working with it.
‘‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom pre-
pared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was
hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me
drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and
you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison
and you came to Me.’’
The adoption of children by God is a powerful theology that calls
for a natural rewiring of human desires, capability and outcomes in
line with the Holy Spirit of God. It is a calling for the realisation of
a rebirth and a new creation.
The Father’s high expectations are intrinsically connected to
His nature and what stems from His Word. What He created He
viewed, and it was Good, ‘I called you by your name, for you are
Mine’ (Isaiah. 43:1) It is interesting that in Genesis God had to
‘view’ his creation to see that it was Good. He did not take His
works for granted. This visualising process suggests something
standing opposite to Him. It is Good because He is Good, the clar-
ification is not subtle it is mammoth. God ‘worked’ to create. The
work that He viewed and blessed was for creation to be deified, to
be with Him. This from the time of Christianity’s inception meant
a reawakening to this. The birth of a baby is the symbolism of a
302 VICKI PETRAKIS
spiritual (and bodily) awakening, the hope of a new creation, a new

story, a new witness in God’s Kingdom. The Father’s role remains
firm throughout the ages – pedagogy through love and righteous-
ness through justice. The theology of the child is an awakening to
the Father’s call. It embodies the nature of the response that is re-
quired and reminds us that this call, this Word, like in the OT was
implanted within each created event, ‘And she was joined with the
faithful in the womb.’
ST. GREGORY OF NYSSA AND THE L IFE
A LIFE OF IDEAL BEAUTY:
OF M ACRINA
ANTONIA ATANASSOVA
In recent scholarship St. Gregory of Nyssa’s ‘jewel-like’ retelling of
the death and burial of his sister Macrina has been the subject of
much scrutiny. She stands as a suitable symbol for discussion in
this present volume in the light of what familial love and the re-
nunciation of marriage symbolized in the early Church; for her life
was composed by her brother St. Gregory of Nyssa, and her mo-
nastic community was founded on the familial estates of her clan,
and continued to include several of her immediate family members
(her mother Emmelia and her brother Naucratios) who cannot be
as easily identified as ascetics/philosophers as her other brothers,
Gregory, Basil of Caesarea, and Peter of Sebaste.
St. Macrina, who leads her proto-monastic female community
in Caesarea, an important but textless Christian philosopher, is var-
iously described by her modern commentators as the embodiment
of liturgical piety, a symbol of eschatological hope, a (literary)
Christian recasting of Homeric themes, and a model for future hag-
iographers. 1 Such multiplicity of perspectives on her image as pre-
1 On Macrina and her community see Philip Rousseau, ‘The pious

household and the virgin chorus: reflections on Gregory of Nyssa’s Life
of Macrina,’ Journal of Early Christian Studies 13 no. 2 (2005): 165–186. On
issues of memory and didactic strategies see Warren Smith, ‘A just and
reasonable grief: the death and function of a holy woman in Gregory of
Nyssa's Life of Macrina,’ JECS 12 no. 1 (2004): 57–84; also Susan Wessel
303
304 ANTONIA ATANASSOVA
sented in her brother’s Vita confirms the undeniable quality of

Gregory’s rhetorical craftsmanship, all the more impressive to wit-
ness at this early stage of development of Eastern Christian hagiog-
raphy. Gregory’s Life of Macrina is a successful experiment in com-
bining elements from the realms of classical philosophy, historical
chronicle, and didactic Christian legend. The finished product
brings those elements together in a unified and coherent whole
with the image of Macrina serving as the focus of their conver-
gence. In what ways would the significance of this paradigm of a
holy life turned work of art stand the test of time? How does it
appropriate the legacy of its literary and philosophical traditions,
especially Platonic influences, to present the reader with an image
of what incarnate Christian beauty should be like? The answers to
such questions provide the key to interpreting Gregory’s Vita Ma-
crinae as an illustration of the beauty of deified humanity.
Gregory’s sober reflection on the uniqueness of Macrina’s life
and Christian ministry starts with a description of her final mo-
ments and him finding his sister on her deathbed. The understated
pathos of this setting draws immediately readers’ attention and
ushers them into the larger-than-life portrait of a woman whose
claim to holiness is to be revealed most dazzlingly at the end. In a
dream preceding his arrival at the family mansion now monastery
at Anissa, Gregory has already seen himself attending the relics of a
martyr. ‘It seemed to me,’ he recalls the event, ‘that I was carrying
the relics of a martyr in my hands and that a ray of light was com-
ing from them, such as occurs when a clean mirror is held against
the sun, so that my eyes were dimmed by the flash off its rays.’ 2
‘Memory and individuality in Gregory of Nyssa's Dialogus de anima et resur-

rectione,’ JECS 18 no. 3 Fall (2010): 369–392; Derek Krueger, ‘Writing and
the liturgy of memory in Gregory of Nyssa's Life of Macrina,’ JECS 8 no.
4 (2000): 483–510. For Homeric influences see Georgia Frank, ‘Macrina’s
scar: Homeric allusion and heroic identity in Gregory of Nyssa’s Life of
Macrina,’ JECS 8 no. 4 (2000): 511–530.
2 Vita Macrinae (hereafter VM), 63. References to the text follow the
translation in Gregory of Nyssa. ‘The Life of Macrina’ In: Handmaids of the

Lord. trans. & ed. Joan Petersen. (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian Publ., 1996).
ST. GREGORY OF NYSSA AND THE LIFE OF MACRINA 305
The relics blind him with their brilliance and fill him with a clear
sense of foreboding. Once he finds the ‘great Macrina’, near death,
he realizes that what he had seen in his dream has slowly begun to
take shape in reality: Macrina is departing from this life, carrying in
her body and spirit the living proof of God’s glory. To Gregory, a
brother and a bishop, belongs the honor of handling the virgin’s
remains as well as reconstructing her memory with those willing to
listen to his testimony. Gregory’s mission as an author and a pastor
is to confirm the value of Macrina’s relics by presenting them to
the community. Macrina’s significance, he suggests at the beginning
of his story, goes beyond her family circle and ascetic group; in the
form of relics, shining with the grace of the Holy Spirit, she is to be
offered to all and imparted to all.
While commentators have tended to focus on the rhetorical
dimension of the dream episode rather than on its purported histo-
ricity, I find Gregory’s way of conveying the story to transcend the
mere choice of words and imagery. His bedazzlement marks him
off as an official witness rather than a manipulator of a holy wom-
an’s memory. Overwhelmed by the splendor of the deified relics,
he carries them in a worshipful manner, awed and shaken to the
core. In continuation of the emotional and visual impact of this
event, he would later describe Macrina’s body as a mirror of the
divine presence reflecting it as a climactic transformation into a
pure ray of light. 3 These two instances of transfiguration serve as
the thematic bookends to Gregory’s hagiographic testimony. At the
beginning and the end of her life Macrina shines with the kind of
holy beauty that only a deified being would possess: her body ar-
ranges itself in repose naturally, she suffers no final struggle, even
manages to offer a concluding prayer with her recitation of the
evening office. Those are memorable details that are yet to be de-
fined as standard in subsequent hagiographic patterns of discourse.
Macrina dies with liturgical prayers on her lips ‘so that there may be
no doubt that she was in the presence of God and that he was lis-
A more recent translation is also available in Anna Silvas, Macrina the

Younger, Philosopher of God (Brepols, 2008), 109–148.
3 VM, 77.
tening to her’. 4 As she lies on the bier, she is covered with a dark
cloak yet ‘even under this dark covering, she was radiant; the divine
power, I think, added this further grace to her body, so that her
beautiful form seemed to throw out rays of light, exactly as I had
seen in the vision which occurred in my dream.’ 5 Thus Gregory’s
account of Macrina’s death is not simply a confirmation but a cul-
mination of what his initial dream has foretold.
Gregory’s depiction of Macrina’s transformed humanity im-
plies that a person becomes real only as they are revealed or envi-
sioned from the viewpoint of God. This is a logical corollary of the
fact that a defining feature of the human self is the image of God
placed at its very core. The idea has both Scriptural and Platonic
overtones. Thus, notwithstanding G. Clarke’s assertion that biog-
raphies and hagiographies do not coincide, I contend that, within
Gregory’s epistemic schema, Macrina’s portrayal is meant to pro-
vide an account of what is, existentially and philosophically speak-
ing, ‘real’ rather than what is merely historically accurate. 6 Thus for
Gregory the real content of Macrina’s personhood is her iconic
image. Seen through the eyes of God and reconstructed in the di-
vine realm, Macrina’s identity is centered on a nucleus of dazzling
beauty which, at the time of her death, usher her into the realm of
the resurrection and the ‘true life.’ If one is to find the real Macrina,
Gregory suggests, we are to respect her wish to see her as she pre-
sents herself – with an enlightened spirit and light-bearing flesh,
with no need to leave written words behind, but the type of a life
whose actions testify louder than words.
His approach is in conflict with the post-modern deconstruc-
tionist perspective, according to which the late antique vitae of holy
women provide meager even if tantalizing glimpses into the actual
lives of their heroines. Such texts are usually seen as the final prod-
uct of a collation of theological perspectives to a degree where his-
torical accuracy becomes superfluous. They are ‘sacred fictions’
4 Ibid., 70–72.
5 Ibid., 77.
6 For the alternative argument see Gillian Clark, Women in Late An-
tiquity (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993); also Gillian Cloke, This Female
Man of God (New York: Routledge, 1995).
coming from the imagination of male writers who manipulate the

identity of ‘real’ women into literary constructs and readily discard
the study of a character in favor of its rhetoric impact. 7 Further-
more, hagiographic texts are conceived of as indicative of the ways
in which definitions of holiness are constructed and institutional-
ized; they cater to the demands of a particular cultural and religious
climate. 8
In examining Gregory’s Life of Macrina, such methodological
concerns need to be addressed as related to the construction of the
real vs. the ideal Macrina. I propose that the interplay between the
notions of real and imaginary in Gregory’s text is more complex
than assumed. Its complexity stems from the discrepancy in the
epistemological and hermeneutic strategies of the author vs. the
modern commentator. There is a danger in reading the ancient text
in an inverted mirror. What is real for the author becomes ideal for
the commentator; what is ideal for the commentator is the author’s
‘true’ content of his heroine’s image. From Gregory’s Platonic and
Origenistic viewpoint, reality coincides with human nature as par-
ticipating in God. Hence our search for the ‘real’ Macrina as corre-
sponding to a different epistemological standard is, by definition, a
disappointing enterprise. To discard the hermeneutics between real
and ideal which the text espouses means to reduce the relationship
between history and hagiography to an ideological conundrum and
replace one methodological assumption (that of the author) by an-
other (that of the commentator). Is it possible that hagiography is a
way of rethinking the basics of the biographical genre, thus provid-
ing the reader with what the author considers a genuine depiction
of his subject of inquiry?
7 See an extensive discussion of the issue in Linda Coon, Sacred Fic-

tions: Holy Women and Hagiography in Late Antiquity (Pennsylvania: Universi-
ty of Pennsylvania Press, 1997).
8 Coon’s phrase ‘sacred fictions’ captures well the intentionality in
these texts; she goes on to claim that ‘sacred biography, in all its various
forms, facilitated the creation, preservation, and extension of Christian
sanctity in an era when there was no systematic, institutionalized process
of identifying a saint’ (27).
In my view Gregory’s Life of Macrina supports this assumption.

Gregory finds the real Macrina in the loving depiction of her eidos
(form, species), the iconic substance of her being. In outlining the
iconic Macrina, Gregory combines a fundamentally Platonic notion
(the soul as the kernel of human individuality) with a Scripturally
based Christian perspective in the context of which each soul pos-
sesses an appropriate material expression, a body that is uniquely its
own. Both of those find their ontological stability in God. 9 The
‘historical’ Macrina which modern readers are interested in be-
comes a fiction of their own imagination. The methodological
question here is not whether the reader does or does not share the
author’s theological convictions, but rather whether one would
take, at face value, Gregory’s invitation to accept the text at face
value and discover its meaning by ‘mutually and interactively’ enter-
ing into its realm. The life of Macrina is complete as such only once
it has reached her remembering audience, as Gregory suggests him-
self at the beginning of the letter. As an iconic fiat, it initiates a
conversation, inviting the reader to partake of the life story and
miracles of Macrina, even those who are skeptical of her sanctity.
In turn, the reader brings their own critical assessment to the text,
correlating what they learn with what they understand.
In part this dynamic and interactive dimension of the text re-
lates to Gregory’s own intertextual approach. His work is very
much influenced by the classical tradition. For instance, there are
clear Platonic overtones to Gregory’s description of Macrina’s dei-
fied flesh. Yet Gregory’s treatment of the power and beauty of the
incarnation of God in ordinary human life and human being is
original and different from the classical philosophical conception
of beauty. Plato’s idea of beauty is abstract and austere. It is a privi-
lege of the enlightened and trained mind to discover it in the realm
of formal definitions. Wanting to incarnate this idea into the world
of matter dilutes its original purity. For Plato symbols are not as
9 See John Meyendorff, Byzantine Theology (New York: Fordham Uni-

versity Press, 1979), 153.
valuable as the original and representations are not reality. 10 Ulti-

mately there is a standing ontological gap between the world of
ideas where the idea of good and beauty takes central place and the
world of material imitations.
In its Christian appropriation the notion of beauty would re-
main united with the idea of the good at the same time at which it
is personalized. Gregory’s take on Macrina’s life is a prime example
of how radical this reworking of the classical tradition is. His wit-
ness to Macrina’s theosis is a commentary on the Biblical and Chris-
tian doctrine of the divine logos becoming flesh, of a personal God
wanting to experience human life in order to save his fallen crea-
tion. Gregory’s restating of the Platonic idea of beauty incarnates it
in the realities of here and now. It speaks of redeemed matter and
enlightened flesh. The example of Macrina demonstrates how is it
possible for a faithful Christian to become an icon of God through
prayer, ascetic discipline and lifelong commitment. The God whom
Macrina incarnates is sublime beauty and has become, in Athana-
sius’ resounding dictum, one of us so that we can become like him.
Macrina emerges triumphant over the crucified flesh not only
as an instructor in ‘all that was good,’ but most importantly as a
witness (martyr) to Christ’s glory. In the quiet and composed man-
ner of her dying, the praxis that wins their crown is long and ardu-
ous but her death is short and sweet. In her final prayers she ad-
dresses Christ in a moving and affectionate manner: ‘I too have
been crucified with you; from fear of you I have nailed down my
flesh and have been in fear of your judgment’. 11 Born as a wealthy
woman, Macrina gradually disposes of any excess of wealth
throughout life to become a transparent symbol of the reality of
the divine presence. Preparing her body for burial, Gregory’s help-
er comments in admiration: ‘Here are her tunic, her veil, and the
shabby sandals on her feet. This is her wealth; these are her riches
… She knew only one place for her private wealth; it was stored up
as treasure in heaven. Everything was stored there and nothing was
10 Cf. Plato’s extensive treatment of this topic in the Symposium and

the Republic. In Plato, Complete Works. Ed. John Cooper (Indianapolis:
Hackett, 1997).
11 VM, 71.
left on earth’. 12 The absoluteness of Macrina’s poverty enables her

to contemplate ‘the beauty of the Bridegroom’ and gaze upon him
directly. 13
The language of giving and giving up, of rising and overcom-
ing the limitations of the human condition in the process of forging
a ‘philosophical and unworldly way of life’ is very much a part of
Gregory’s assessment of Macrina’s legacy. As the impurities of her
body and soul are purged away, Gregory’s Macrina enters the realm
of incorruptibility and keeps ascending, no longer weighed down
by the allurements of the flesh – a theme to which Gregory returns
time and again, in this text, as well as in other of his works. 14 His
account of Macrina’s purification and entry into the holy life is fi-
nalized by her depiction as an athlete. After making herself fit for
the commitments of Christian life, Gregory explains, Macrina
learned how to race toward her heavenly prize without the burdens
of corruption. Like dust, those are stripped away from her so that
the purity of her nature is revealed in a God-like splendor. 15
Not surprisingly, Gregory compares her to an angel: an angel
who throughout her lifetime has ‘no relationship with the life of
the flesh nor in any way adapted to it, and whose thought re-
mained, in a perfectly natural way, in a state of impassability, since
the flesh did not attract her to her own feelings’. 16 Macrina’s disso-
ciation from the needs of the flesh provides the impetus for turn-
ing her into a tangible receptor of God’s radiant presence. In Su-
sanna Elm’s perceptive description, ‘Gregory created in her [Ma-
crina] an exemplum for a complete human being through the crea-
tion of a new female image: that of the ascetic, the ‘virgin of God’,
in short, that of a true saint, who, on her way to God, had pro-
gressed beyond male and female’. 17 In Gregory’s narrative the pre-
12 Ibid., 75.
13 Ibid., 70.
14 The themes of ascension and divine infinity are also found in
Gregory’s On Virginity and On the Soul and the Resurrection.

15 VM, 77.
16 VM, 69.
17 Susanna Elm, ‘Virgins of God’: The Making of Asceticism in Late An-
tiquity (Oxford, 1996), 102.

occupations of ordinary existence are discreetly erased from Ma-

crina’s personality and her humanity is sublimated into an angelic
state – a force of pure volition toward God, a ministering and
praising spirit. This is why Macrina is able ‘to engage with sublime
thought in philosophical meditation right until the very end […] It
was as if an angel had assumed human shape in the household.’ 18
At the same time there is a certain degree of ambiguity in reconcil-
ing the concept of genderless angelhood with the inevitable facts of
gendered humanity. On her deathbed Macrina wears the white
robes of a bride – an explicit testimony to her (self)-presentation as
a female espoused to a heavenly bridegroom. This theme acquires
an even more poignant dimension by the fact that, as Gregory
points out, it would not have been ‘suitable that the virgins [of her
ascetic community] should look upon Macrina adorned as a
bride’. 19
As exceptional as Macrina is, Gregory does not consider her
life as an isolated occurrence of saintly piety, but places it firmly
within the larger context of the Church and the Christian commu-
nity. Once again Macrina’s asceticism is not the lonely pursuit of
spiritual self-sufficiency, but a theo-centric activity whose ultimate
goal is union with God in the context of a communal and liturgical
experience. The remembrance of Macrina’s miracles, Gregory sug-
gests, goes beyond her immediate circle of disciples; the vision of
her, shining with the grace of the Holy Spirit, is to be offered to
all. 20 In this sense Macrina’s vita will contribute immensely to the
ongoing formation of hagiographic modes of discourse and their
educational value for the Christian community. Gregory’s descrip-
tion of Macrina’s Christian praxis is offered as a service to those
who need consolation, edification, and a remedy for the inevitable
ills of mortal life.
Nowhere is Macrina’s service to the community better attest-
ed than in her charitable activities. For her family and her commu-
nity of consecrated virgins she is an archetypical exemplar of classi-
cal virtue. She is even able to perform miracles in a way that is both
18 VM, 69.
19 Ibid., 77.
20 Cf. Krueger, Writing, 494–6.
effective and far from ostentatious. For example, her modesty

compels her to refuse a doctor to examine the lump on her breast.
Macrina cures herself with the sign of the cross after a night of a
prayerful vigil. 21 Gregory himself does now know about the miracle
until he starts preparing her body for a burial. In a separate occur-
rence of a healing miracle Macrina cures a child from an eye de-
cease using a quiet prayer for deliverance (81). 22 So inconspicuous
is her display of miraculous powers that the child’s parents do not
realize what has happened until after they depart the saint’s pres-
ence. In addition Gregory emphasizes Macrina’s overall generosity
and practical management skills as she is the one who ‘sought to
turn away neither beggars nor benefactors, for God secretly caused
the small resources that she obtained from her work to multiply
through his blessing, just as if they were seeds’ (68). Thus Macrina’s
community is well supplied and able to support others in the time
of famine ‘when the corn supply was distributed according to peo-
ple's necessities, but never showed any sign of growing less; on the
contrary, it appeared the same in bulk both before and after it had
been given to those who needed it’. 23 Gregory highlights Macrina’s
philanthropy as an imitation of the philanthropy of God, the ulti-
mate giver.
He draws a final instructive parallel between the significance
of Macrina’s ministry and that of another legendary figure and a co-
apostle in the Eastern Orthodox calendar, St. Thecla. Thecla
‘whose fame is great among the virgins … was Macrina’s secret
name’ (53). 24 Comparing the two provides Gregory with an inter-
esting consideration of the importance of antique women's services
to their Christian communities. Refusing a prosperous marriage,
following the apostle Paul in a male disguise, preaching and even
baptizing herself, the apocryphal Thecla provides an apt illustration
of the types of female vocation and ministerial activities available to
women in late antiquity in a way that makes them both unique and
21 VM, 76.
22 Ibid., 81.
23 VM, 82.
24 The Thecla analogy was a standard literary convention found in
the vitae of other holy women from this period (Cloke, 165).
culturally conditioned. 25 Similarly, the historical Macrina embarks

on the path to asceticism at the age of twelve when marital plans
‘that had been made for her were destroyed by the death of the
young man’. She establishes her own proto-monastic community
by emancipating her slaves and separating women from men.
Eventually she becomes the leading figure in their sufficiently strict
way of life structured around the chanting the daily prayers and
offices.
Macrina’s authority over her charges stems from her charisma
rather than from her wealth and social standing. At the time of her
death the women ‘whom she had received at time of the famine,
when they were wandering about the roads, and whom she had
cared for and brought up and directed towards a pure and incor-
rupt life’, lament her in such an intensive and heartbreaking fashion
that Gregory, never a supporter of public outbursts of grief, has to
forbid the crying. 26 The virgins lament Macrina as the light of their
eyes and the stability of their lives; she is called the seal of immor-
tality that maintains their hope in God. 27 She is described as supe-
rior to them in rank and holiness and someone that they trust,
cherish, and admire. Indeed, the memory of Macrina’s imposing
personality is what aids Gregory’s attempt to preserve communal
peace and obedience. He recounts how, during the period of Ma-
crina’s illness, the virgins restrain themselves from grieving ‘on ac-
count of their fear of Macrina, as if they were in awe of her re-
proachful looks – even when she was already in the silence of
death’. 28 It is only after her death that ‘they could no longer conceal
their suffering, which was like a fire smoldering within their
hearts.’ 29
25 In the apocryphal Acts of Paul, Thecla preaches the gospel to

women. She also leads the conversion of prostitutes and the baptism of
women from various social classes. The Apocryphal Acts of Paul and Thecla
(Studies on Early Christian Apocrypha) ed. J. Bremmer (Leuven, 1996).
26 VM, 73.
27 Ibid.
28 Ibid., 72.
29 Ibid.
In sum, Gregory’s portrayal of Macrina is embedded within a

particular literary and devotional context. As a result, Gregory
claims that it has a timeless significance that continue to inspires
and instruct beyond its immediate historical milieu so that the souls
of Macrina’s followers and admirers would be ‘set down within the
inner sanctuary of heaven through the guidance of her discourse’. 30
Even if indebted to sources outside of the Christian milieu, as for
instance, classical philosophical biographies, Gregory’s remem-
brance of Macrina’s story carries an unmistakably Christian and
universalizing message. Macrina’s life has a revelatory and trans-
formative potential as far as it points the direction of all ascetic
endeavors: embodying Christ as fully as it is possible in this life.
This union is a thing of beauty and turns the ascetic life into a veri-
table work of art. It is a narrative of asceticism making a new set of
family kin-bonds in Christ. Spiritual and physical aspects of being
are here equally affected by the restoring and illuminating presence
of the divine. Macrina incarnates beauty in her liturgical devotion
and daily tasks; at her death she is transfigured thus manifesting the
union between human nature and divine grace. What is good, true,
and beautiful about her is uniquely her own way of living in the
image and likeness of God. At the same time her iconic perfection
exemplifies the highest hopes and aspirations of the Eastern Chris-
tian tradition and community.
30 VM, 65.

Love, Marriage and Family in Eastern Orthodox Perspective

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Love, Marriage and Family in Eastern Orthodox Perspective

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Love, Marriage and Family in

Eastern Orthodox Perspective

George Anton Kiraz

Gorgias Eastern Christian Studies brings to the scholarly world the

Theodore Grey Dedon

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication

Names: Dedon, Theodore, editor. | Trostyanskiy,

Table of Contents ..................................................................................... v

Imaging the True Family in St. Gregory Nazianzen’s

A Life of Ideal Beauty: St. Gregory of Nyssa and the Life of

The papers presented in this volume were originally delivered at the

When we speak of love in modern language a certain conceptual

1 St. Augustine, Confessions. I, 7.

‘coming-to-be-one’ through the mutual bond of love (in its various

2 Such as the latter’s Hymns of Divine Eros.

ἐντολὴν καινὴν δίδωμι ὑμῖν, ἵνα ἀγαπᾶτε ἀλλήλους, καθὼς

1 There is now a growing literature on the Orthodox understanding

2 Mt. 19. 3–8.

to the point of being justification enough to leave wife and chil-

3Mt. 10. 35–37; 12.49–50; 19.29; 23.9.

so be subject (hypotassetai) in all things to their husbands. 25 Husbands,

the Risen Christ – and this is not connoted by ‘subjection’ in the

gether. Those who continue to live together in increasingly parallel

8 Among others: Mt. 22.1–14; Mt. 25.1; Lk. 12 35–36.

could be suitably manifested. The mystery of the great outpouring

of celibates, and often denigrated as something defective, or at least

11 A theme excessively developed by Pope Gregory the Great in the

power, despite all and every setback of war, or poverty, or disease,

1Paul Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, trans. A.P. Gythiel and V.

French, himself often seen as a member of the ‘Paris school’ of

3 Antoine Arjakovsky. The Way: Religious Thinkers of the Russian Emi-

Some of them had in youthful revolutionary and reformist idealism,

4 Le concile de Moscou (1917–1918) (Paris: Cerf, 2006). A translation by

5 Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, 83–84.

Christian to put the Gospel into practice, to do the work of Christ

the Lover of humankind. 9 The goal of their struggle or ascetisicm

trans., Michael Plekon, ed. (UND Press, 2007), 136–147.

14 Evdokimov. The Sacrament of Love, 92.

out of every work even in the cement and concrete heart of

In our present atmosphere, so often incited by the ‘culture

27 Paul Evdokimov. Ages of the Spiritual Life, rev. trans. Michael

plate the wisdom of god in the apparent absurdity of history

29 Evdokimov. Ages of the Spiritual Life, 224–225.

Galatians 3.26 Paul speaks of Christians being children of God

1. MT. 1.1–25 LOVE, MARRIAGE, FAMILY AT THE ROOT

(1.20). He is betrothed to Mary and she is pregnant, although he

2. MT. 1.18–25 LOVE, MARRIAGE, FAMILY AND

Joseph in Matthew. 1 Genesis 37 relates how Joseph’s own brothers

1 ‘This is the history of the family of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen

3. MT. 1.18–25 LOVE, MARRIAGE, FAMILY:

what to do so not to be overtaken by the headhunting Herodians

4. PAUL: TRANSFORMATION INTO DIVINE CHILDREN

3 The Christian martyr Ignatius of Antioch begins his Epistle to the

a permanent, lasting impression upon him. 5 Seeing the god hap-

the West (New York: Doubleday, 2004), 432.

different from human instinctive life. It is as if the supreme oppo-

8 C.G. Jung, Psychology and Alchemy, translated by R.F.C. Hull (Prince-

(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1956), 226.

changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For

In light of the impending resurrection, Christian humanity in its

12Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum 3.3572. See Jo-Ann Shelton, As the

Row, 1986), 47.