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Cultism Revisited: A Corrective to Mr.

Moss' Rejoinder
by Bishop Auxentios of Photiki and Hieromonk Gregory Agiogregorites

In the combined summer-autumn 1996 issue of Orthodox Tradition (Vol. XIII, Nos. 3 &
4), in a short critique entitled “Monasticism and Cultism” (pp. 47-50), Archimandrite Akakios
addressed certain overstatements in an otherwise commendable article by Father Alexey
Young, “Cults Within & Without,” which appeared in the March-April 1996 issue of Orthodox
America (Vol. XV, No. 7 [139], pp. 10-11). His critique, in turn, prompted a critical response
from Vladimir Moss, published in the July 1996 issue of Orthodox America: “Cultism Within:
A Rejoinder” (Vol. XVI, No. 1 [141], pp. 11-12), which also makes some important and
valuable points. In her introduction to Mr. Moss's rejoinder, the editor of Orthodox
America notes that "Father Akakios' attempt to qualify or moderate Father Alexey's warnings
on false elders within the Church... contained... certain errors which only tend to underline the
truth and importance of Father Alexey's words." She then characterizes Mr. Moss's unsolicited
rejoinder "...not so much as a defense of Fr. Alexey's article as... a valuable extention [sic],
adding that, having deliberately deleted references to the source... [and]... author of Father
Akakios' critique, ... it is not our intent to debate the subject, [but] merely to clarify [it]."
In responding to Mr. Moss's extension to Father Alexey's comments, we, too, wish to avoid
debate. Our purpose is twofold: first, to restate and to clarify the main points contained in
Father Akakios' critique of Father Alexey's article on Eldership and Orthodox cultism, which
points Mr. Moss at times misunderstands and mis-states; and second, to offer a corrective
balance to the latter's own fall to overstatement and a spirit of excessive apocalypticism, a fall
that could lead an incautious reader into serious error. With regard to these endeavors, let us
make it clear that we are not attributing error to Mr. Moss or, for that matter, to Father Alexey.
The issue of Eldership, especially, is one which touches on the area of pastoral matters, where
the antipodes of right and wrong do not apply. It is for this reason that the attribution of errors
by the lay editor of an Orthodox Church periodical to the Abbot of an Orthodox monastery
writing about monastic guidance is perhaps inappropriate, even if the latter is not identified by
name. The delicate subject of spiritual guidance should never be approached with a spirit of
advocacy and counter-advocacy. We must simply seek to understand differing views in a spirit
of mutual edification.
Mr. Moss begins his rejoinder by saying that "Father Akakios, in his response to Father
Alexey, chides the latter for talking about monasticism at all, since it is, he observes, an estate
which, in general, cannot be adequately studied outside its confines, and especially by non-
monastics" [emphasis added]. Father Akakios simply points out, as his words, independent of
Mr. Moss's addendum to them, affirm, that in general a non-monastic Priest (or, in the case of
Mr. Moss, a layman), lacking the Grace of the monastic tonsure and, by definition, the
particular insights that ideally derive from years of struggle and experience within that estate,
must undertake any consideration of the Angelic life only with trepidation and acknowledging

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his inadequacy in fully understanding that life. A priori, he must understand that he is an
outsider looking in. Indeed, one of the points that Father Akakios makes repeatedly in his
response to Father Alexey's consideration of monasticism is that it is a uniquely Grace-
filled institution not to be trifled with, even when it apparently comes to naught.
We have no qualms, in this same vein, about Mr. Moss's contention that, "Fr. Alexey, as a
pastor of laymen, has every right to express an opinion on the subject of demands for monastic-
style obedience... by laymen from their parish Priests." Father Akakios and we would be the
first to agree with both Father Alexey and Mr. Moss that parish Priests are in no position to
make such demands. In fact, the communities received into the modernistic Antiochian
Orthodox Christian Archdiocese several years ago from a former Evangelical Protestant sect
have often been the object of our criticism, in the pages of Orthodox Tradition, for the misuse
of monastic-like obedience in their parishes—an abuse which Father Akakios
has openly characterized as cultism, as a matter of fact. Father Akakios' warnings about Father
Alexey's comments on monastic obedience, as a careful reading of his critique will reveal,
center on those instances in which Father Alexey goes beyond parish matters and addresses
the institution of monasticism itself. And if Mr. Moss finds Father Akakios' wholly charitable
admonitions in this respect objectionable, we might contrast them against the rather stark
words of the Optina Elder Saint Anatoly, written to a nun under his spiritual direction about
those in the world who undertake to criticize the monastic estate: "[They] swarm around
without any consciousness of what they are doing, like worms burrowing in the dirt. All they
do is look at other people’s weaknesses and judge monastics as worthless—whereas they
themselves have no conception of monasticism. And even concerning God and the future life,
they speak alluding to books read long ago or even simply off the top of their heads."
Mr. Moss goes on, in his rejoinder, to discuss the nature of Eldership in general. In so doing,
he introduces an artificial dichotomy in Orthodox spiritual life, that of obedience to truly Spirit-
bearing elders and other forms of monastic obedience, the implication being that obedience
shown to a truly Spirit-bearing elder is somehow more effectively salvific than simple
monastic obedience. This false distinction arises when Mr. Moss too narrowly interprets the
thought of I. M. Kontzevich, who defines a true elder as having, among other gifts, the gift of
prophecy, i.e., the gift of clairvoyance. In a subtle way, he unwittingly suggests that spirit-
bearing Elders fall into one class, false Elders into a second, and simple monastic superiors—
those who mediate other forms of monastic obedience—into a third. Thus, one who, by
inference, sees the future and demonstrates supernatural powers is an Elder, while a false Elder
is one who pretends to have such powers, and those who do not demonstrate them belong to
another category of spiritual leadership. As in the arguments put forth by Father Alexey, too,
about false Elders, Mr. Moss fails to grasp the wider dimensions of prophetic gifts.
As countless spiritual writings and Scripture itself attest, the gifts of prophecy and
clairvoyance are not necessarily extraordinary manifestations of premonition and prescience.
Endurance, love, and humility are also prophetic gifts; and to the extent that they bring us face-
to-face with spiritual truth, they involve the highest form of clairvoyance: a clear vision of God

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in His Energies. Subtle spiritual insight and discretion likewise border on clairvoyance, and
the prophetic dimensions of spiritual guidance often involve such seemingly commonplace
things as calling a sinner to repentance, offering confessional succor, and administering the
Mysteries of the Church. Too frequently we dismiss the overwhelming miracle of the
resurrection of a sinful soul as something which pales before the resurrection of the dead,
notwithstanding the fact that Angels in Heaven rejoice over the former, a true and often lasting
victory over human nature, while the resurrection of a dead body, a miracle which nonetheless
culminates in eventual death, was almost ordinary to a number of Saints. We must not, once
more, limit the sphere of the spiritual to what is dramatically supernatural—and this especially
so among laymen. Thus, Saint John of the Ladder advises us, in choosing a spiritual
Father, not to seek those who have the gift of foreknowledge and foresight, but rather those
who are unquestionably humble and whose character and place of residence corresponds to
our maladies.
Given what we have said, it is little wonder that Mr. Moss expresses befuddlement at Father
Akakios' assertion, in his response to Father Alexey's misunderstanding of Eldership as a
personal attribute, that our obedience within monasticism, covered as we are by the Grace of
the sacred tonsure, produces Eldership. Eldership is not personal. Wherever there is sincere
monastic obedience, there is Eldership. If true Eldership were exclusively determined by the
presence or absence of dramatic elements of clairvoyance in one's spiritual Father, as Mr. Moss
assumes, then it would indeed be something personal, focusing on some psychic quality in the
Elder; and, in such a case, his contention that Father Akakios "...implies that the grace of
eldership comes, not from above, but from below..." would carry some weight. But, of course,
such a contention deviates from the basic notion of Eldership found in the Patristic consensus.
It has always been understood that the Grace of Eldership is precisely that: Grace; i.e., an
outpouring of Divine Energy from Heaven to earth. We Orthodox are, after all, not atheists;
we assume that God acts in all spiritual things. When we speak of spiritual power, we
presuppose that it is the product of Divine Grace and not a mere personal predisposition
or charisma. As one exemplary practitioner of monastic obedience, highly respected in Greece
for his extensive knowledge of the Fathers and his own personal sanctity, declares: "[A monk]
is always prepared, that he might, with the Prophet Samuel, immediately respond to the call to
obedience and self-abnegation. Speak, O Lord, for thy servant hears. However, the Lord speaks
to us through our Elder. The spiritual Father is given authority from on high... The spiritual
Father exercises an authority which Heaven reveres and before which demons tremble."
So it is that when a monk is tonsured, that is, when he is invested with the Divine Grace
necessary to live monastically, he promises obedience to his spiritual Father, not on the
condition that the spiritual Father must be clairvoyant, but unconditionally. A monk’s
obedience is founded on the explicit belief that Christ speaks directly to him through his
spiritual Father, despite any human foibles present in his guide. The link of obedience, from
human to human, is energized by Divine Grace; it becomes a conduit through which spiritual
wisdom and enlightenment are passed. Thus, when Mr. Moss suggests that, perhaps, what is

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meant is that God bestows the grace of eldership on a man in response to the eager faith of his
disciple, he renders Father Akakios' formula unilateral, which it is not meant to be. Not only
does God bestow Grace where it is warranted—that is, where an eager disciple seeks a true
Elder—, but the eager faith of a disciple is also a response to the Grace of Eldership bestowed
by God in his very relationship to his spiritual Father. And the prophecy and clairvoyance of
Eldership—limited not to the obviously supernatural, but encompassing, as well, dedicated
leadership, the administration of the Mysteries, and good monastic demeanor—also rest in and
derive from this relationship. In the end, a good Abbot or spiritual guide who offers moral
guidance, remains faithful to the traditions of monasticism, preaches Orthodoxy in fidelity to
the Fathers, practices love, chastises those who go astray, inspires obedience in those placed
in his care, and remains firm in his commitment, is a holy Elder. And Eldership is ultimately
measured in this way, not by worldly notions of prophecy and clairvoyance. There are but two
forms of Eldership: genuine and false, and the dividing line between them is not marked by
glitter and the obviously miraculous, but by sobriety and a commitment to the wholeness and
continuity of Orthodox Tradition.
Risking redundancy, let us strongly emphasize, one more time, something that is essential
to understand in this portrayal of Eldership and obedience: Divine Grace is operative whether
or not an Elder is manifestly clairvoyant. In fact, it so happens that Elders, themselves, are at
times unaware that Grace is acting through them. Let us call to mind, for example, the famous
story of Saint Proklos, who, wanting to introduce a certain nobleman to Saint John
Chrysostomos, was unable to do so, since each time that he approached his Elder's quarters
and peered in, he saw an old man leaning over him and whispering in his ear, as the Saint
intently composed what became his celebrated commentaries on the Epistles of Saint Paul.
This occurred for three nights in succession. The venerable old man, it turned out, was Saint
Paul himself, under whose guidance the Divine Chrysostomos, unaware of the fact, was
ostensibly recording his own thoughts. If the Grace of Eldership is so subtle and so elusive that
even those under its influence are unaware of its energy within them, who can characterize it
as a personal attribute? And if he who enjoys that Grace does not always see it, how careful
one must be in unequivocally declaring that there are no holy Elders in this or that place.
Eldership is a function, a power that operates in context and in specific response to a given
task, and is actuated by the Will of God and defined spiritual relationships and duties. Its
presence or absence is not an issue to be discussed lightly and in sweeping terms.
Ultimately, in failing to understand that the Grace of Eldership is not personal,
but transpersonal—for God is no respecter of persons—, Mr. Moss makes the pithy but
irrelevant comment that, "A disciple can no more make an elder than a layman can ordain a
priest." We might note, as Saint Theodore the Studite observes, that no human ordains a
Priest per se: Ordination is from God. The Bishop exercises the power of his office through
the Grace of God. And so, it is not the disciple who makes the Elder, as Father Akakios clearly
states, but the action of the Holy Spirit, which operates through a disciple’s obedience and the
sacred relationship between a disciple and his Elder. And just as the faults and failures of a

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Bishop do not limit the actions of God performed through him, so the faults and deficiencies
of an Elder in no way impede the Grace of God as it acts through his relationship to a spiritual
disciple. As Saint Herman of Alaska says: "Our sins do not in the least hinder our Christianity."
A more legitimate concern in spiritual guidance, we might observe, is the indispensability of
right belief—that is, Orthodoxy—in the action of Grace. Where right belief exists, human
shortcomings become incidental. Thus it is Orthodoxy, and not the gift of clairvoyance, which
serves as a fundamental characteristic of true Eldership. Here again, prophecy and
clairvoyance are understood as expansive concepts, critically dependent upon and intimately
linked to—more than anything else—correct belief. To a faithful disciple of an Elder who is
truly Orthodox, even if that Elder is not notably virtuous, the experience of Grace, that
intangible grasping of the Divine dimension which undergirds created existence, is always
accessible.
Mr. Moss's potentially misleading comments about Eldership are reinforced, in part, by his
misuse of Patristic warnings about inexperienced or ill-intentioned Elders, warnings which,
while important (and especially in our days), address the issue, not of true Eldership, but, quite
obviously, of false Eldership and the abuse of obedience. All of his extensive quotations from
Bishop Ignaty (Brianchaninov), from Saint John of the Ladder, and from Saint Symeon the
New Theologian, in fact, invariably make, in each case, nothing more than a point about the
dangers of false Eldership. The inferred repudiation of Eldership, on account of instances of
its abuse, can lead an incautious reader to conclusions which Mr. Moss certainly does not
advocate, as evidenced by his admission that the scarcity of true Elders in our own times does
not mean that they do not exist at all. Scarcity and abuse are not adequate arguments against
the need for spiritual guidance; moreover, were Mr. Moss to put such warnings in context, he
would be forced to admit that the same Fathers whom he so liberally quotes about the perils of
false Eldership also point out a corresponding danger, equal to that of following false Elders:
following one's own will and one's own judgment.
With regard to Mr. Moss's reference to Bishop Ignaty's famous claim that ancient monastic
obedience to holy Elders does not exist in our age, we might observe—as did Father Akakios
in response to Father Alexey's assertion that there are no true Elders in America—that this holy
man, recently Glorified by the Moscow Patriarchate, held an opinion in some ways at odds
with the consensus of other spiritual Fathers, if we are to understand his words literally. Indeed,
we should also note, one can persuasively argue, on the basis of a thorough consideration of
his writings, that Bishop Ignaty warns us not against the pursuit of monastic obedience, but
against failing to heed the limited ability of spiritual aspirants, in our day, to respond to that
pursuit. Whatever the case, we do not wish to call into question his sanctity or the absolutely
central part that many of his writings should play in the training and formation of contemporary
monastics. We wish simply to point out that this one area of thought in Saint Ignaty's writings
must be studied with circumspection and caution and weighed against his constant admonitions
against self-direction and dependence on one's own thoughts.

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In addition to misgivings about the possibility of obedience as we read of it in the early
monastics, it is well known that Bishop Ignaty also believed that true Eldership had almost
disappeared in his day. Mr. Moss applies these reservations to modern times. Bishop Ignaty
drew his conclusions, however, from personal experiences with contemporary directors
suffering from blindness and self-delusion. This was for him a great occasion for temptation.
Therefore, he dedicates no small portion of his commentaries on monasticism to the
phenomenon of false Eldership. But what he presumed to be a scarcity of Elders at the time
did not lead him away from his understanding that one must follow assiduously the directions
of the Church Fathers, those Elders bound in leather, whose writings tell us nothing, again,
about self-reliance or spiritual independence, but speak constantly of submission and
obedience to the Church, its precepts, and its worthy leaders. Indeed, Bishop Ignaty admits
that, while we do not feast at the banquet table of monasticism today, we are still left with the
crumbs that fall from the spiritual table of the Fathers, and he does not deny the efficacy of
such advice and instruction as can be borrowed from contemporary Fathers and brethren. One
must never understate this foundational element in the writings of Saint Ignaty, exploiting and
concentrating upon those things among his writings that can be too easily misused to justify
spiritual and ecclesiastical anarchy.
Saint John of the Ladder, whose warnings against false Elders, or inadequate guides, Mr.
Moss also cites, was not, on account of his condemnation of the abuses of Eldership, an
advocate of spiritual independence. Let us quote from his own words: "Without a guide, it is
easy to wander from the way, however prudent one may be; and so, he who walks on the
monastic path under his own direction soon perishes, even though he may have all the wisdom
of the world." Had Mr. Moss continued reading the passage which he quotes from Klimakos
about inadequate spiritual guides, he would have found himself arguing against the idea that
our spiritual guides must be constantly scrutinized and, in most cases today, abandoned; for,
after his admonition that a monastic aspirant verify the credentials of his guide-to-be—among
which, again, he does not necessarily include clairvoyance and prophecy in their more dazzling
forms—, Saint John says that, once we have entered the arena of piety and obedience, we must
no longer judge our good manager in any way at all, even though we may perhaps see in him
some slight failings, since he is only human. The issue, here, is not one of merely avoiding
false Eldership, but more importantly of strengthening the disciple’s faith in his undoubtedly
imperfect human Elder. The weak link in the mystery of Eldership, for Saint John, is not the
poor Elder, but the disciple’s imperfect faith. Moreover, it is to Saint John whom we turn for
an understanding of the spiritual hierarchy of the Church: Angels are a light for monks and the
monastic life is a light for all men. Here we see basic support for the rule that we are not all
spiritual equals, but depend on others for spiritual light, and see that, despite the caution that
many wise Fathers rightly prescribe with regard to Eldership gone awry, such caution does not
justify spiritual self-reliance and sweeping generalizations about the ascendancy of personal
judgment over spiritual obedience to one's superiors—whether among monastics or laymen.

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Saint Symeon, whom Mr. Moss also quotes, warns us that we should not submit ourselves
to an inexperienced or passionate master. This admonition does not, however, mean that,
despite the decline in spiritual life that Saint Symeon saw even in his own age, he rejected the
necessity of spiritual guidance: "But to deny that at this present time there are some who love
God, and to deny that they have been granted the Holy Spirit and Baptism by Him as sons of
God, to deny that they have become gods by knowledge and experience and contemplation—
that wholly subverts the Incarnation of our God and Savior Jesus Christ! It clearly denies the
renewal of the image that had been corrupted and put to death, and its return to incorruption
and immortality." Lest anyone object that the Saint's words applied only to his own era, let us
hear a contemporary monastic writer, Hieromonk Theodosius, writing in 1911 in an appendix
to a letter by Elder Cleopas of Vvedensk: "And so, my dear brother, do not despair. Be zealous,
be zealous for God; do not say that it is impossible to be saved, that there are no holy Fathers
and that the time is not the same. There are Fathers, and the time is good for working out one's
salvation. And those who say otherwise, as witnesses Saint Symeon the New Theologian, are
raising blasphemy against God, which will not be forgiven." Quite obviously, if we read with
care the words of Saint Symeon and heed with intelligence the comments of Father
Theodosius, it is impossible for one to believe fully in the Incarnation of Christ and argue that,
however scarce, spiritual leadership does not exist at all times in the Christian Church, a point,
once more, that Father Akakios made abundantly clear in his response to Father Alexey and a
point which Mr. Moss unfortunately obfuscates in his references to false Eldership and the
limitations of modern monks in fulfilling the ancient standards of obedience.
In concluding his comments on Eldership, Mr. Moss applies what he gleans from the
aforementioned Patristic sources to modern spiritual life. He observes: "Many converts are
tempted to submit to a false elder for another reason—that he led them to Orthodoxy and may
well be the only Orthodox leader in the vicinity. Then a mixture of gratitude and the fear of
becoming completely isolated may lead the convert to conclude that Divine
Providence must have led him to submit his whole life to this man for the salvation of his soul.
The false elder, who is often a cunning psychologist, can exploit this situation and gain
complete control over his disciples, adding, in the case of disobedience, fearsome sanctions,
very strict penances, curses and even anathematization and expulsion (supposedly) from the
Orthodox Church." Such thoughts, unfortunately, foster a lack of confidence in the ability of
Providence to direct and guide the course of a man's life towards salvation. Moreover, the
greatest Fathers of the Church were experienced psychologists, adding to their understanding
of human behavior the wisdom of spiritual insight. And not a few Fathers visited sanctions and
strict penances, if not anathemas, on their erring spiritual wards—not, of course, with the aim
of punishing them, but for the purpose of bringing them to repentance and asking of them sure
signs of their having turned from disobedience and error to a correction of their sinful ways.
Such things are indispensable to the spiritual life.
It is not Mr. Moss alone who so fiercely condemns Eldership in our contemporary Church
life. There are many non-monastics today who, having wrongly placed themselves under the

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quasi-monastic guidance of a false Elder and having been sadly wounded and hurt by this
experience, are strongly motivated to lash out at Eldership itself and at all of those things, such
as penances, curses, and other ecclesiastical sanctions, that were inappropriately used against
them. They become obsessed, at times, with discrediting anything that smacks of Eldership or
submission to Church's authority—and this not only innocently, but at times because they lack
the humility to face their past errors and to seek out a more responsible spiritual guide in a
more salutary context. There are also many monks who, either having been abused by false
Elders or, on the other hand, having failed to obey a true Elder and to live an exemplar monastic
life, fall to the error of rejecting what they knew improperly or that to which they could not, in
its proper manifestation, adequately respond.
In the case of such laymen, they are too often, ironically enough, the victims of what it is
that they only come to eschew after the fact: that is, of embracing monastic obedience without
the one thing that is absolutely indispensable: the Grace of the monastic commitment itself. In
the case of monks who have fallen to warfare against true monasticism, the issue is a complex
one that leads not a few such aspirants to the disaster of self-reliance and the judgmentalism
that goes with it. They either forget or choose to ignore, for their own self-serving reasons, the
fact that Christianity involves tremendous risk, for which reason our Lord Himself tells us that
many who strive to enter through the strait gate will fail. While Mr. Moss does not dismiss
spiritual obedience or monastic submission as such, he sets forth arguments that can lead not
only to a misunderstanding of spiritual guidance, but to a serious departure from an Orthodox
understanding of the Church and to a falsely comfortable, ostensibly safe reliance on one's self
that courts disaster.
Indeed, in developing his dangerous idea that false Eldership justifies some sort of self-
reliance and spiritual independence, Mr. Moss cites an anecdote translated from the sayings of
the desert Fathers and attributed to Abba Poimen, in which this great monastic Saint
supposedly advises a monk, who complains that he cannot stay with his Elder without losing
his soul, that he should leave his Elder. The translation which Mr. Moss uses (by Benedicta
Ward) is misleading. In fact, Saint Poimen only reluctantly advises the monk in question, after
two visits, that it is better, more correctly, to heal himself by leaving his Elder than to remain
where he is. The Saint does not, as the translation in question suggests, tell the monk that he is
saving himself by abandoning his Elder. He is told that he cannot find salvation in such a
circumstance. The reason for this, however, is not the Elder himself, but the disciple's lack of
faith and obedience, which impedes that natural relationship, between Elder and disciple,
through which God operates.
Bishop Ignaty, commenting on this anecdote, concludes (though without evidence from the
text) that the Elder to whom Abba Poimen refers must have broken the moral tradition of the
Church, and thus rightly argues that his disciple would have imperiled his soul by remaining
with him. It should be firstly noted that, if Bishop Ignaty is correct in his conclusion, we are
dealing with an extraordinary circumstance here. As much as lay people would like to think
that such is not the case, immorality between spiritual Fathers and their spiritual children is

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extremely rare. For every monastic community assailed by the demon of immorality, there are
by far many more monasteries and convents, even in our days and even in America, where
people follow lives of absolute purity. Such rare instances, as well as cases of open heresy, do
indeed justify, if not demand, the separation of a disciple from his Elder. But they must not be
taken as justifications for the rejection of Eldership as such or for a retreat into independent
judgment.
In commenting on this anecdote, Graham Gould, in his pivotal book, The Desert Fathers
on Monastic Community, quite succinctly makes this same point: "Poemen's attitude is...
complex. Outwardly he remains neutral, but in fact realizes that ultimately the brother will
have to leave. Only when the brother had come to the end of his endurance does Poemen affirm
his decision and assure him that he has acted for the best." In some ways this saying is an
exception to almost all of the rules which the Desert Fathers made for the behavior of a disciple.
The same hesitancy that Gould sees in Abba Poimen to advise a disciple to leave his Elder,
prompted by the Saint's regard for the sacred nature of spiritual relationships, we see expressed
in the words of Elder Anatoly, whom we quoted above, to another nun under his direction,
who had separated from her spiritual Mother: "From your last letter I see that you have decided
to break off your relationship with the Matushkas, your Eldresses, but you did not explain the
reason. Was this a whim or something valid? Whatever the case, I will not hasten to praise you
for this. And I will not hesitate to scold you the moment I find out the reasons you have
preferred a self-directed life to the guidance of eldership" [emphasis added].
(Parenthetically, we might add that the anecdote about Abba Poimen is, in fact, exceptional
not only in its advice, but with regard to the manuscript tradition. It is not contained in the
standard collection of the Apophthegmata Patrum in the Patrologia Graeca or in the Ever-
getinos, but is taken from sources of uncertain provenance.)
Let us note, secondly, that Abba Poimen, despite the very selective choice by Mr. Moss of
an exceptional anecdote about his spiritual precepts, does not in theory or in
principle advocate spiritual self-reliance and a self-willed departure from one's spiritual guide.
Let his own words speak for themselves: "Do not be misled into thinking that you are able to
govern yourself in things spiritual... Submit yourself to an experienced elder and let him guide
you in all things." It is of great significance, in fact, that it was only with the Saint's blessing
that the monk in question finally sundered the spiritual relationship between himself and his
Elder. There is to be found in this anecdote no justification for the rejection of Eldership on
the grounds that one bad apple spoils the whole tree. The continued reliance of a spiritual
aspirant on good guidance, following the collapse of his relationship with a bad or errant Elder,
furthermore, is perfectly consistent with canonical tradition. For example, in the questions
appended to the Canons of Saint Nicephoros, Patriarch of Constantinople, we read that a monk
may sever his ties to a spiritual Father only when he has the blessing of his Bishop (Question
VII). Self-dependence is not a spiritual alternative to proper Eldership, even when the latter
has gone bad or is difficult to find.

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In contrast to the unrepresentative anecdote that Mr. Moss draws from the counsels of Abba
Poimen, one can cite more numerous instances from the Evergetinos in which personally
corrupt Elders are, through the obedience of their disciples, ultimately led to salvation. These
anecdotes should not serve as prescriptive texts, but they are didactic and serve to place both
true Eldership and its abuse in better perspective. We will cite two examples. The first concerns
a disciple who submitted himself to an Elder given to the vice of drunkenness. This Elder
exploited the ready and uncomplaining obedience of his disciple, in order to indulge his
drinking habit even more. After having endured much abuse from this Elder, the disciple was
one day beset by the temptation that it was spiritually unprofitable for him to remain with such
a drunkard. But with true monastic fortitude, he immediately cut off this thought, and for this
act was vouchsafed an Angelic vision, revealing his impending demise. When the disciple
relayed this vision to his Elder, the cynical Elder initially mocked him; however, his attitude
was speedily transformed into one of wonderment when the words of his disciple came to pass
and he died. Painfully aware of his own passions in the light of his disciple’s radiant virtues,
the Elder from that moment on resolved to abandon his former drinking habit and thus
succeeded, through the obedience of his disciple, in saving his soul.
The second example is similar. Outside Alexandria, there lived an irascible and fussy hermit
whom no one could stand. A certain pious young man made a pact with God that he would
live with this hermit, patiently enduring his misanthropic character, in return for Divine
forgiveness of sins. After six years, seeing that the young man faithfully upheld his end of the
bargain by courageously accepting every abuse visited upon him by his callous Elder, God
deigned to reveal to His patient disciple that half of his sins had been forgiven. Thenceforth,
the disciple redoubled his efforts to endure, counting as a loss every day in which he failed to
receive some sort of maltreatment or privation from his Elder. After another six years, the
disciple reposed, with the remaining balance of his sins having been forgiven. To a certain
pious and experienced monk it was revealed that, on account of his patience, the disciple had
been granted a Martyr's crown and was deemed worthy of bold intercession before the throne
of God. And, indeed, through the very prayers of his own obedient disciple, the stone-hearted
Elder repented of his abusive and selfish behavior, thereby attaining salvation.
We are not arguing, here, that one should endure immorality or heresy in a spiritual guide.
We are not arguing, either, that the kind of obedience that we see in these two stories—nearly
unattainable and certainly rare, anyway—should be lightly undertaken in our age. Nor do we
believe that such instances of monastic obedience should be applied to the life of lay people.
What we are pointing out, in response to Mr. Moss's unbalanced and misleading presentation
of spiritual Eldership, is that obedience and spiritual relationships are Grace-bearing, and
especially and specifically so in the monastic estate, and that the action of God in sanctifying
and saving the Christian soul is not dependent on mere personal virtue or on the charismatic
qualities of an Elder. Eldership is a mystery of the Church, and as such it provides a channel
through which Divine Grace can act, effectively operating, not only through one's personal
gifts, but often in spite of one's faults.

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Taking into account all that we have said about the nature of obedience and Eldership in
the monastic life, as well as our admission that he and Father Alexey are right to express
caution with regard to the abuse of these things in the lives of laymen, the real danger set forth
in Mr. Moss's rejoinder to Father Akakios' critique is his inference that Eldership gone astray
justifies self-reliance: "[T]hat most quintessential attribute of man, made in the image of God,
[is] independent judgment, and the ability to turn to God directly for enlightenment and help."
To see the danger of this shocking deviation from the teachings of the Church Fathers, we need
only quote Abba Dorotheos of Gaza: "I know of no fall that happens to a monk that does not
come from trusting his own judgment. Some say, A man falls because of this, or because of
that, but I say, and I repeat, I do not know of any fall happening to anyone except from this
cause. Do you know someone who has fallen? Be sure that he directed himself. Nothing is
more grievous than to be one's own director, nothing is more pernicious." That this admonition
applies to laymen, too, is clear in the words of Saint Gregory Palamas: "Any man who seeks
God without a spiritual guide, resting on his own thought, is straightway bound for a fall."
To bolster his argument, Mr. Moss cites two Russian Catacomb Saints, Bishop Damascene
of Glukhov and Metropolitan Joseph of Petrograd. Saint Damascene he quotes as follows:
"Perhaps the time has come when the Lord does not wish that the Church should stand as an
intermediary between Himself and the believers." Lamentably, this quotation can easily be
misinterpreted to mean, not only that Elders have disappeared, but that the Church itself has
disappeared. The Saint meant, of course, no such thing. He was referring specifically to his
own national Church, the liquidation of which was taking place before his very eyes at the
hands of Bolshevik toadies masquerading as Orthodox Christians. That he was not an advocate
of self-reliance is evident in a careful consideration of his life and writings. Thus it is that, in
another passage, which helped to lay the groundwork for the Catacomb Church, Bishop
Damascene writes: "[C]reate first a small nucleus of a few people who are striving towards
Christ, who are ready to begin the realization of the evangelical ideal in their lives. Unite
yourselves for grace-given guidance around one of the worthy pastors, and let everyone
separately and all together prepare themselves for yet greater service to Christ... Just a few
people united in such a life already make up a small Church, the Body of Christ, in which the
Spirit and the Love of Christ dwell... If we do not become members of the Body of Christ, the
temple of His Life-giving Spirit, then this Spirit will depart from the world, and the frightful
convulsions of the dying world organism will be the natural result of this" [emphasis added].
Saint Joseph of Petrograd Mr. Moss cites as having said that, in the last times, there may
be even among the elect those who betray the Church. This statement is, of course, consistent
with Scripture, too. However, it is not an invitation to laymen to declare that the end of time is
here. Nor is it an invitation to declare oneself the measure of all things. In the first place,
excessive apocalypticism can be very dangerous. While we are undoubtedly in troubled times
and, as a number of contemporary Elders have said, entering the age of Antichrist, we must
take care to preserve the Church, the pillar and ground of truth, with special zeal. This may
mean that we will have to be cautious in all things spiritual, but it does mean that we can

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unilaterally fall to the sin of self-reliance and the folly of rejecting all spiritual guidance, simply
because some (or even many) of the Church's elect have fallen to false belief. Let us also
remember that Catacomb Bishops like Hieromartyrs Damascene and Joseph found themselves
in unparalleled circumstances of great intensity, which led them to the seemingly inescapable
conclusion that the end of the world had arrived in their very days. In such desperation, they
must have felt abandoned and isolated, and their statements must be clearly read in such a
context. They must not be used to support an excessively apocalyptic spirit or an abandonment
of the Church and its teaching ministry.
Mr. Moss ends his rejoinder to Father Akakios' critique of Father Alexey's article with these
words: "Thus we may be moving into the last period of the Church's history..., when the
individual believer has to seek the answers to his spiritual problems from God and God's word
alone." Here, he has moved beyond his perhaps wise caution with regard to false Eldership to
what borders on a Protestant justification of self-reliance. We must remember, of course, that
the Word of God, properly speaking, is not the Bible, as a naive reader might imagine,
but Christ Himself Whose Body is the Church. While Holy Scripture reflects and perfectly
describes the Glory of God, it does not contain the experience of that ineffable Glory. Father
John Romanides states this overlooked fact succinctly: "Neither the Bible nor the writings of
the Fathers are revelation or the word of God. They are about revelation and about the word
of God. Revelation is the appearance of God to the prophets, apostles, and Saints. The Bible
and the writings of the Fathers are about these appearances, but not the appearances
themselves. This is why it is the prophet, apostle, and saint who sees God, and not those who
simply read about their experiences of glorification. It is obvious that neither a book about
glorification nor one who reads such a book can ever replace the prophet, apostle, or saint who
has the experience of glorification." In short, whatever the dangers, the experience of
glorification, the tasting of Divine Grace—or theosis, an Orthodox synonym for salvation—,
comes to us in the reality of the Church, Elders, and spiritual guidance. Even when the
institutional garb of the Church is rent asunder by the perverse forces of Antichrist, or
Eldership becomes corrupt, the Church Herself, as the very Body of Christ, cannot and will
never be defiled. And if Elders seem to have disappeared or to have become corrupt, the
phenomenon of dependence on spiritual guidance, if not Elders themselves, cannot and will
never disappear. We cannot—indeed, we must not—guide ourselves, whatever the risk.

Source: “A Supplement to Orthodox Tradition,” Vol. XIV, No. 1 (1997).

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