THE QUESTION OF LITURGICAL COMMEMORATION

Written by Vladimir Moss

One of the most difficult issues in contemporary Orthodoxy is the question whether the secular authorities should be commemorated at the Divine Liturgy. Many Orthodox believe that all the secular regimes in the world today are not only not Orthodox, but anti-Orthodox, and so should not be commemorated. Others, however, believe that they should be commemorated because this is the tradition of the Orthodox Church since the times of apostles, when prayers were offered even for the pagan persecutors of the Church, the Roman emperors, and also because the law and order that is provided by the authorities is valuable to the Orthodox, whoever the providers of that order may be.

     This issue arose in the middle of the nineteenth century in the Balkans. Let us examine the circumstances of that controversy.

     The foremost spiritual authority in the Balkans at that time was, of course, the Ecumenical Patriarch. He was bound by an oath to obey the Sultan, and commemorated him at the Liturgy. Failure to do that could have very serious consequences. Thus during the Greek revolution in 1821, the patriarch was suspected of disloyalty to the Sultan and cooperation with the revolutionaries. It was a false charge, as was demonstrated by the fact that the patriarch anathematized the revolutionaries. Nevertheless, the Turks did not believe him. So they killed both him and twelve of his metropolitans and almost the whole of the Phanariot clan in Constantinople (who, unlike the patriarch, had been complicit in the rebellion).

     However, the Patriarch had other political sympathies and loyalties. Besides his loyalty to the Sultan, he was naturally sympathetic to the leaders of the Free State of Greece, of which many of his subjects and compatriots were citizens from the end of the 1820s – and to the Tsar of Russia. For in 1598 the Ecumenical Patriarch Jeremiah II had called the tsar the sovereign «of all Christians throughout the inhabited earth,» and explicitly called his empire «the Third Rome«. But now, centuries later, the image of Russia the Third Rome had faded from the minds of the Patriarchs; it was the image of a resurrected New Rome, or Byzantium, that attracted them and their Greek compatriots – this was the truly «great idea». The Russians were, of course, Orthodox, and their help was useful; but the Greeks would liberate themselves. To adapt a phrase of Elder Philotheus of Pskov, it was as if they said: «Constantinople is the Second Rome, and a Third Rome there will not be»…

     In any case, did not the Patriarch’s oath of allegiance to the Sultan take precedence over all other political sympathies and loyalties? Certainly, this was the position of Patriarch Gregory V in 1821, as we have seen, and of other distinguished teachers of the Greek nation, such as the Chiot, Athanasios Parios. Moreover, the Tsar who was reigning at the time of the Greek Revolution, Alexander I, also recognized the Sultan as a lawful ruler, and as lawful ruler of his Christian subjects, even to the extent of refusing the Greeks help when they rose up against the Sultan in 1821. Even his successor, Tsar Nicholas I, who did come to the rescue of the Greeks in 1827 and again in 1829, continued to regard the Sultan as a legitimate ruler.

     However, the situation was complicated by the fact that, even if the Patriarch commemorated the Sultan at the Liturgy, almost nobody else did! Thus Protopriest Benjamin Zhukov writes: «In Mohammedan Turkey the Orthodox did not pray for the authorities during Divine services, which was witnessed by pilgrims to the Sepulchre of the Lord in Jerusalem. Skaballonovich in his Interpreted Typicon writes: ‘With the coming of Turkish dominion, the prayers for the kings began to be excluded from the augmented and great litanies and to be substituted by: «Again we pray for the pious and Orthodox Christians» (p. 152).»[1]

     But perhaps commemoration and obedience are different matters, so that commemoration of an authority may be refused while obedience is granted?… Or perhaps the Sultan could not be commemorated by name because no heterodox can be commemorated at the Divine Liturgy, but could and should have been prayed for (without commemoration), if such a distinction is valid, in accordance with the apostolic command to pray «for all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty» (I Timothy 2.2), although the authorities at that time were pagans…

     However, there was one important difference between the pagan authorities of St. Paul’s time and the heterodox authorities of the nineteenth century. In the former case, the pagan Roman empire was the only political authority of the Oecumene. But in the latter case, there was a more lawful authority than the heterodox authorities – the Orthodox Christian authority of the Tsar.

     The critical question, therefore, was: if there was a war between the Muslim Sultan, on the one side, and the Orthodox Tsar, on the other, whom were the Orthodox Christians of the Balkans to pray for and support?…

     Precisely this situation arose during the Crimean War. The Russians were fighting for a cause dear to every Orthodox Christian heart: the control of the Holy Places. And their enemies were an alliance of three of the major anti-Orthodox powers, Muslim (Turkey), Catholic (France) and Protestant (England). So the supreme loyalty inherent in faithfulness to Orthodox Christianity – a loyalty higher than any oath given to an infidel enemy of the faith under duress – would seem to have dictated that the Patriarch support the Russians. But he neither supported them, nor even prayed for the Russian Tsar at the liturgy.

     Perhaps the likely terrible retribution of the Turks on the Balkan Orthodox was a sufficient reason not to support the Tsar openly. But could he not commemorate the Tsar at the liturgy, or at any rate not commemorate the Sultan as other Balkan Churches did not? For even if the Sultan was accepted as a legitimate authority to whom obedience was due in normal situations, surely his legitimacy failed when he used his authority to undermine the much higher authority of the Orthodox Christian Empire?

     Certainly, the Athonite Elder Hilarion the Georgian, the former confessor of the Imeretian King Solomon II, felt that loyalty to the Tsar came first in this situation, although he was not Russian, but Georgian. He instructed his disciple, Hieromonk Sabbas, to celebrate the Divine Liturgy every day and to pray for the Russians during it, and to read the whole Psalter and make many prostrations for the aid of «our Russian brethren». And the rebuke he delivered to his ecclesiastical superior, the Ecumenical Patriarch, was soon shown to have the blessing of God.

     «When some time had passed,» witnesses Hieromonk Sabbas, «the elder said to me: ‘Let’s go to the monastery, let’s ask the abbot what they know about the war, whether the Russians are winning or the enemies.’ When we arrived at the monastery, the abbot with the protoses showed us a paper which the Patriarch and one other hierarch had sent from Constantinople, for distributing to the serving hieromonks in all the monasteries. The Patriarch wrote that they were beseeching God, at the Great Entrance in the Divine Liturgy, to give strength to the Turkish army to subdue the Russians under the feet of the Turks. To this was attached a special prayer which had to be read aloud. When the abbot, Elder Eulogius, had read us this patriarchal epistle and said to the elder: ‘Have you understood what our head, our father is writing to us?’, my elder was horrified and said: ‘He is not a Christian,’ and with sorrow asked: ‘Have you read this in the monastery during the Liturgy, as he writes?’ But they replied: ‘No! May it not be!’ But in the decree the Patriarch was threatening any monastery that did not carry out this order that it would suffer a very severe punishment. The next day we went back to our cell. A week passed. A monk came from Grigoriou monastery for the revealing of thoughts, and my elder asked him: ‘Did you read this prayer which the Patriarch sent to the monasteries?’ He replied: ‘Yes, it was read last Sunday during the Liturgy.’ The elder said: ‘You have not acted well in reading it; you have deprived yourselves of the grace of Holy Baptism, you have deprived your monastery of the grace of God; condemnation has fallen on you!’ This monk returned to the monastery and told his elders and abbot that ‘we have deprived the monastery of the grace of God, the grace of Holy Baptism – that is what Papa Hilarion is saying.’ On the same day a flood swept away the mill, and the fathers began to grumble against the abbot: ‘You have destroyed the monastery!’ In great sorrow the abbot hurried to make three prostrations before the icon of the Saviour and said: ‘My Lord Jesus Christ, I’m going to my spiritual father Hilarion to confess what I have done, and whatever penance he gives me I will carry it out, so that I should not suffer a stroke from sorrow.’ Taking with him one hierodeacon and one monk, he set off for the cell of the Holy Apostle James, where we living at the time. When they arrived, my elder was outside the cell. The abbot with his companions, on seeing my elder, fell face downwards in prostrations to the earth and said: ‘Bless, holy spiritual father.’ Then they went up to kiss his hand. But my elder shouted at them: ‘Go away, away from me; I do not accept heretics!’ The abbot said: ‘I have sinned, I have come to ask you to give me a penance.’ But the elder said: ‘How did you, wretched one, dare to place Mohammed higher than Christ? God and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ says to His Son: «Sit Thou at My right hand, until I make Thine enemies the footstool of Thy feet’ (Psalm 109.1), but you ask Him to put His Son under the feet of His enemies! Get away from me, I will not accept you.’ With tears the abbot besought the elder to receive him in repentance and give him a penance. But my elder said: ‘I am not your spiritual father, go, find a spiritual father and he will give you a penance.’ And leaving them outside his cell weeping, the elder went into it and locked the door with a key. What could we do? We went into my cell and there served an all-night vigil, beseeching God to incline the elder to mercy and give a penance to the abbot. In the morning the elder went into the church for the Liturgy, not saying a word to those who had arrived, and after the dismissal of the Liturgy he quickly left for his cell. Those who had arrived with the abbot began to worry that he would suffer a heart attack; they asked me to go in to the elder and call him; perhaps he would listen to me. I went, fell at his feet and asked him: ‘Be merciful, give them a penance – the abbot may suffer a stroke in the heart attack with fatal consequences.’ Then the elder asked me: ‘What penance shall I give them? God on high is angry with them. What epitimia should I give them which would propitiate God?’ When I said to my father: ‘Elder, since I read the whole Psalter of the Prophet-King David every day, as you told me, there is one psalm there which fits this case – the 82nd: «O God, who shall be likened unto Thee? Be Thou not silent, neither be still, O God…» Command them to read this psalm tomorrow during the Liturgy, when the Cherubic hymn is being sung, at the Great Entrance; let the hieromonk who read the prayer of the Patriarch before stand under the great chandelier, and when all the fathers come together during the Great Entrance, the priest must come out of the altar holding the diskos and chalice in his hands, then let one monk bring a parchment with this psalm written on it in front, and let the hieromonk, who has been waiting under the chandelier, read the whole psalm loudly to the whole brotherhood, and while they are reading it from the second to the ninth verses let them all repeat many times: «Lord, have mercy». And when the remaining verses are being read, let them all say: «Amen!» And then the grace of God will again return to their monastery.’ The elder accepted my advice and asked me to call them. When they joyfully entered the cell and made a prostration, the elder said to them: ‘Carry out this penance, and the mercy of God will return to you.’ Then they began to be disturbed that the exarch sent by the Patriarch, who was caring for the fulfilment of the patriarchal decree in Karyes, might learn about this and might bring great woes upon the monastery. They did not know what to do. The elder said: ‘Since you are so frightened, I will take my hieromonk and go to the monastery; and if the exarch or the Turks hear about it, tell them: only Monk Hilarion the Georgian ordered us to do this, and we did it, and and you will be without sorrow.’ Then the abbot said: ‘Spiritual father, we are also worried and sorrowful about you, because when the Turks will learn about this, they will come here, take you, tie you up in sacks and drown you both in the sea.’ My elder replied: ‘We are ready, my hieromonk and I, let them drown us.’ Then we all together set off in the boat for Grigoriou monastery. When the brothers of the monastery saw us, they rejoiced greatly. In the morning we arranged that the hieromonk who had read the prayer of the Patriarch should himself liturgize; they lit the chandelier during the Cherubic hymn, and when all the fathers were gathered together and the server had come out of the altar preceded by the candle and candle-holder and carrying the chalice and diskos on his head and in his hands, he declared: «May the Lord remember you all in His Kingdom», and stopped under the great chandelier. Then one monk, having in his hand the parchment with the 82nd psalm written on it, stood in front of the priest and began to read: «O God, who shall be likened unto Thee? Be Thou not silent, neither be still, O God…» – to the end. Meanwhile the fathers called out: «Lord, have mercy» until the 10th verse, and then everyone said: «Amen» many times. And they all understood that the grace of God had again come down on the monastery, and the elders from joy embraced men, thanking me that I had done such a good thing for them; and everyone glorified and thanked God.’

     «All this took place under Patriarch Anthimus VI. At the end of the war he was again removed from his throne. After this he came to Athos and settled in the monastery of Esphigmenou, where he had been tonsured. Once, in 1856, on a certain feast-day, he wanted to visit the monastery of St. Panteleimon, where Fr. Hilarion was at that time. During the service the Patriarch was standing in the cathedral of the Protection on the hierarchical see. Father Hilarion passed by him with Fr. Sabbas; he didn’t even look at the venerable Patriarch, which the latter immediately noticed. The Patriarch was told about the incident with the prayer in Grigoriou monastery. At the end of the service, as usual, all the guests were invited to the guest-house. The Patriarch, wanting somehow to extract himself from his awkward situation in the eyes of the Russians and Fr. Hilarion, started a conversation on past events and tried to develop the thought that there are cases when a certain ‘economia’ is demanded, and the care of the Church sometimes requires submission also to some not very lawful demands of the government, if this serves for the good of the Church. ‘And so we prayed for the granting of help from on high to our Sultan, and in this way disposed him to mercifulness for our Church and her children, the Orthodox Christians.’ When Patriarch Anthimus, under whom the schism with the Bulgarians took place, arrived on Athos after his deposition, and just stepped foot on the shore, the whole of the Holy Mountain shuddered from an underground quake and shook several times. All this was ascribed by the Athonites to the guilt of the Patriarch, and the governing body sent an order throughout the Mountain that they should pray fervently to God that He not punish the inhabitants of the Holy Mountain with His righteous wrath, but that He have mercy according to His mercy.» [2]

     Thus there was a fine line to be drawn between submission to the Sultan as the lawful sovereign, and a too-comfortable adaptation to the conditions of this Babylonian captivity. The Tsar considered that the Orthodox peoples did not have the right to rebel against the Sultan of their own will, without the blessing of himself as the Emperor of the Third Rome. But the corollary of this view was that when the Tsar entered into war with the Sultan, it was the duty of the Orthodox subjects of the Sultan to pray for victory for the Tsar. For, as Fr. Hilarion said, echoing the words of St. Seraphim of Sarov: «The other peoples’ kings often make themselves out to be something great, but not one of them is a king in reality, but they are only adorned and flatter themselves with a great name, but God is not favourably disposed towards them, and does not abide in them. They reign only in part by the condescension of God. Therefore he who does not love his God-established tsar is not worthy of being called a Christian.» [3]

      The situation today is closer to that of the early Christians under the pagan Roman emperors than to that of the Christians under the Ottoman yoke. We have no Orthodox tsar as an alternative source of support and object of commemoration and prayer. Nevertheless, the story of Fr. Hilarion the Georgian shows that, even while commemorating our secular authorities, we should also pray, with equal if not greater fervor, for the restoration of the throne of the Orthodox tsars…

September 5/18, 2019.

[1] Zhukov, Russkaia Pravoslavnaia Tserkov’ na Rodine i za Rubezhom (The Russian Orthodox Church in the Homeland and Abroad), Paris, 2005, pp. 18-19.

[2]Hieromonk Anthony of the Holy Mountain, Ocherki Zhizni i Podvigov Startsa Ieroskhimonakha Ilariona Gruzina (Sketches of the Life and Struggles of Elder Hieroschemamonk Hilarion the Georgian), Jordanville, 1985, p. 95.

[3] S. Fomin & T. Fomina, Rossia pered Vtorym Prishestviem (Russia before the Second Coming), Moscow, 1994,  vol. I, pp. 331-333.