Economy in the Tradition of the Orthodox Church

There is no doubt that there exists in our days a certain interest concerning the idea of “economy” beyond the circle of specialists of canon law, more so in the Orient than the Occident. This notion is sometimes considered as essential for the comprehension of the praxis of the Orthodox Church. However, it appears that interpretations are imposed concerning the nature of Economy itself, and further, it’s field of application.

Translated by monk Savvatii

Jordanville

5/13/2007

 

 

 

 

 

There is no doubt that there exists in our days a certain interest concerning the idea of “economy” beyond the circle of specialists of canon law, more so in the Orient than the Occident. This notion is sometimes considered as essential for the comprehension of the praxis of the Orthodox Church. However, it appears that interpretations are imposed concerning the nature of Economy itself, and further, it’s field of application. Divergent opinions have been expressed concerning this subject; they are repeated elsewhere.[1] The consensus, in which it concerns the definition of Economy in the domain of canon law, hardly goes beyond the following affirmation: the Greek term “oikonomia” is employed with a certain canonical connotation signifying a derogation of the norm, or more precisely, an ecclesiastical attitude implying the concrete possibility to apply such a measure. It is in the problems related to sacred theology that the differences in assessment appear to be more glaring. Going to the extreme, the alternative presents itself in these terms: does economy posses a real creative potential or is it good that this potential is not “sanatio in randice”? The orthodox doctrine is clearly ready-made according to the fact that the church is the dispenser (“tamioyxoc”) of divine grace. But the church is like the body of which Christ is the head.[2] This wants to say that the members of the body, while assuming responsibility for direction, evidently do not have power to reverse ecclesiastical order.

 

In order to frame this correctly so that it can be applied to Oikonomia, it is necessary to have first a precise idea of what the norms are. To proceed in any other methodological plan will be like to say in French “to put the cart before the bulls.” But that certainly is not an easy task, because orthodox canonical law does not present itself in the form of a code comprised of laws which we know for certain to be current, and which would cover disciplinary matters as a whole. It is a stratified corpus with a blurry outline. Many canons are being summoned in connection with precise problems. Their actual meaning is not often detected to the measure that we understand their historical context. The historian of ecclesiastical institutions notices that certain canons are being misinterpreted more than a century after their publication.[3] On the other hand, in the Byzantine Orient during the middle ages, there were many controversies concerning the interpretation of this or that canon.[4] Even the canons that indubitably constitute permanent laws—and, while still not having been discussed—must not be applied without taking into consideration other more explicit canonical resolutions. Thus the first canon of the collection called “of the Holy Apostles” must be included together with canons 4 and 6 of Nicea, 19 of Antioch, 12 of Laodicaea and 2 of Constantinople.

 

In mentioning the difficulties of finding the norms, we do not at all mean to pretend that this makes an insurmountable obstacle. We want to keep guard against a simple approach toward the question.

 

Many canons, we can say, are decisions adopted in relation to concrete problems which appeared. But these decisions were adopted in reference to a system of criteria. This is in the sense that the fathers of the first ecumenical council speak of the “kanjn ekklhsiastikoc” or simply the “kanjn.”[5] It acts as the ecclesiastical norm transmitted by tradition and not as a rule of written law, which at the time of Nicea was only just being formed. Speaking of Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria in the middle of the third century (265/65), Saint Basil qualified him as a “kanonikoc,” that is to say, “versed in the understanding of the canons.”[6] It was quite clear in the mind of the Bishop of Caesarea, expressing himself regarding a holy person of the 3rd century, that the knowledge of the canons could not in any way be brought to order of written law.

 

Here it is advisable to remember that in the ancient church there existed a profoundly deep conviction of mind that, if not in its details, at least in general terms, the rules determining the life and organization of the church go back to the beginning of Christianity. This is why all the liturgical-disciplinary writings of the first centuries are presented as “apostolic.” The term more current is the pseudepigraphy: The Diadach of the Apostles, the Didascalia of the Apostles, the Ecclesiastical Canons of the Holy Apostles, the Apostolic Constitutions, and the 85 canons of the Holy Apostles.[7] It is again more significant to observe that the “Apostolic Tradition” compiled at the beginning of the third century does not use the fiction of being written by the Apostles themselves. The author, probably Hippolyte of Rome, has the sense to express in his work the tradition of the primitive Church in the liturgical-disciplinary domain.[8] When in the fourth century there appeared an authoritative written law in the form of synodal stipulations, the Fathers that edited those rules did not have the intention to create a “jus novum” by substituting the previous law of custom. What they meant to do was to recall the ecclesiastical norms where deviations had been introduced[9], and to consecrate the ancient customs[10] , or again to render more precise the function of existing institutions.[11] The stipulations adopted in response to concrete problems which involve ecclesiology and sacramental theology suppose positions of principle on the part of the Fathers of Nicea and are easily discerned. Thus, the Novationists are admitted into the Church without being subject to re-baptism, although this is required for the reception of Paulianists.[12] However, we know that the latter used a correct rite for baptism, but their Trinitarian doctrine was gravely deficient, which was not the case with the Novationists, as Socrates clearly attested to in his ecclesiastical History.[13] On the other hand, the stipulations of the Nicene fathers in regards to the integration of the Novationist clergy contained a disposition aimed at protecting the unity of the episcopal jurisdiction at the local level.[14] In the grave controversy that shook the Church in the proceeding century in regards to the re-baptism of dissidents, the divergences moved themselves to the level of the norms, namely the link between the Church and the Christian initiation, as well as the value of customs. Saint Cyprian had the conviction that to re-baptise heretics and schismatics was guarded “veritatem et firmitatem catholicae regulae,”[15] while the Pope defended the contrary position by leaning on the adage “…nihil innovetur nisi quod traditum est.”[16] We find no trace in Saint Cyprian of the idea in which the matter of utilitas Ecclesiae could lead to admit exceptions. Let us note that if there was a complete disagreement on what the norm should be in this instance, all agreed when it came to the existence of a norm that suffered no dispensation.

 

The council of Arles in 314 adopted a position with more nuances. It disapproved of re-baptism in general of dissidents but it did not line up as much with the position which seems to be that of Pope Innocent sixteen years before, that heretics supporting an erroneous doctrine about the Holy Trinity must be baptized.[17] As we have seen, the Fathers of the first ecumenical council, without discussing the question ex professo, situated themselves in the same perspective. The decisions adopted or confirmed at the subsequent ecumenical councils show their own worry to distinguish the dissidents in categories as for modes of reception into the Church.[18] So in ancient Christianity there was always a clear consciousness of constant imperatives concerning the ecclesiastic discipline. As a measure that developed written law, it is certain that there was a particular tendency to consider this as the direct source of norms and not only as their expression. In this respect the semantic evolution of the term “canon” is striking. From the sense of the norm of ecclesiastic praxis, we go towards the end of the fourth century to the sense of the rule of written law.[19] In the context of this evolution the new connotation will be sketched out in certain terms.

 

The idea of Acribie applied to canon law also tends to take a technical sense. It is true to say that this semantic fixation will be obvious. Properly speaking, it is not a matter of real evolution in meaning, but rather in specialization. “Akribeia” always signifies in Greek “precision, exact observance.” Already Isocrates speaks of “Akribeia nomjn.”[20] In the book of Acts, Saint Paul declares that earlier he was educated in the strict observance (“kata akribeian”) of the Law of the Fathers.[21]

 

In the whole first phase of written law, right after its emergence, acribia indicated only a severe attitude that does not necessarily identify with ecclesiastical norm. So, the Fathers of the council of Ancyra in 314 blame this as being “with excesses of severity (perissoterac akribeiac eneken”) or from ignorance.”[22] While explaining their attitude of relative indulgence toward Melitios, the Fathers of Nicea make remarks that, according to strict reason (“kata gar ton akribh logon”), this does not merit any indulgence.[23] Through Saint Basil, the term “kanjn” designates the whole rule clearly established and received in the Church. Acribie is the strict observance of such rules.[24] Evidently, it is possible to find in the canonical literature of this time the substantive “akribeia” and other words of the same root with the banal sense of meticulous examination. In the preface of the first series of responses by Amphilochius, Basil speaks of concern for the exactitude (“h peri to akribec merimna”) that he was looking for. Some lines further down he declares to have examined the questions posed with meticulousness (“episkefasvai akribjc”).[25] In the same manner, Saint Gregory of Nyssa, while dealing with certain penitents, writes that it is necessary to question them with care (“di akribeiac”).[26] It is clear for Saint Basil that when there is a canon, that is to say, a well defined and accepted ecclesiastical rule, we must submit ourselves to it exactly. He employs a very strong expression: “doyleyein akribeia kanonjn.”[27] An unknown author of canon 47 attributed to Saint Basil wished that a grand council would come together to fix the norm (“ton kanona”), while seeing the divergences of practice in the Church concerning re-baptism.[28]

 

Besides well defined rules, there is a somewhat fluid domain of customs. Thus a conscientious bishop must know what is a matter of Acribie and what is a matter of custom, “…ta thc akribeiac kai ta thc synhveiac”.[29] It is incontestable that for Saint Basil, the “Canons” are intrinsically just. They reflect through ecclesiastical decision the divine will; this is why their exact observance is imposed. This is not an original idea for the bishop of Caesarea. This concept was held by the whole Church of this epoch.[30] Custom was not assumed to be an authority on its own. Saint Basil, for example, accepted custom but he occasionally insinuated that it is not necessary in the logic of the gospel. Thus, he considers it to be normal that men and women be treated in the same manner when it comes to divorce.[31] Nevertheless, in absence of a “canon,” custom serves as a useful reference in ecclesiastical practice.[32] Since it is founded on faith with reason and holy tradition, it can be considered as a reliable law valid everywhere.[33] In the ancient canonical literature, the terms “synhveia,” “evoc,” relate more often to legitimate customs that must be so maintained. This is the sense in canons 6, 7, 18 of Nicea and 2 of Constantinople; however the details given in these texts show clearly that the employed terms have in themselves a neutral significance.[34] But there are also bad usages which must be eradicated.[35]

 

The prescriptions of ecclesiastical law, in its first phase of elaboration, does not ignore the possibility of a softening of the penitential norms in favor of certain categories of sins manifesting sincere repentance. The general orientation of ecclesiastical discipline in the fourth century consisted of a rejection of laxism, or as it is also considered, everyone avoided a merciless rigorism. The canons that have in view the eventual pardon anticipated by the epitimias recognize the competence of the local bishops in this matter.[36] Calling to mind the full reintegration after a time of penitence to the ecclesiastical community of Christians who actively participated in a pagan festival, the Fathers of the council of Ancyra specify: “when it comes to knowing if they should be admitted to the oblation, it is for each bishop to test and examine the life of each.”[37] A margin of liberty is also accorded to local bishops concerning the status of dissident clerics after their integration into the catholic Church.[38] However, we should be careful not to misunderstand the freedom enjoyed by the bishops. On the one hand, they were bound to follow the customs of their own local church, and they also found themselves more and more bound by the provincial synodal decisions, as well as the regional and general councils. On the other hand, in the spirit of a law understood as expressing the divine will, the non-respect of the essential norms was felt to be a form of sacrilege. Indulgence and compassion inexorably stop at this point. Besides, still in this understanding, to cross over this limit would be to commit a “praqic akyroc” (actus irritus). For example, the council of Ancyra, dealing with the case of priests who had a moment of weakness during persecution but immediately repented, decrees that they will enjoy the honor to sit with the other priests, but would from now on neither offer the eucharist, nor preach, nor perform any function proper to the priesthood.[39] The underlying idea was that for their apostasy, itself morally redeemed by their subsequent courageous attitude, they have lost sacerdotal grace. Another example of the end of condescension at the threshold of the purely sacerdotal domain is given us as a response from Basil to Amphilochius. It appears useful to us to quote in full ad litteram: “in regards to a priest who engages in an illicit marriage without his knowledge, I decide that he needs to do this: he will have his part of his office (presbyterial) but he must abstain from all the other functions, pardon being enough for such a person. Blessing another person when he has to look after his own proper wounds is inconsequential, since the blessing is a communication of sanctification. Since he did not posses this in the past because he lost it in ignorance, how can he communicate it to others? So he does not bless neither in public nor in private, and does not distribute to others the body of Christ; nor can he accomplish any other liturgical function, but he will be content with precedence and he will beseech the Savior with tears for pardon of the iniquity he committed in ignorance.”[40] This does not have to be a personal opinion of Saint Basil or even the view of a restrained ecclesiastical group. The rule will be taken word for word three centuries later by the fathers of the council of Trullo, who add only a jurisdictional detail designed so: “it is evident that this illicit marriage will be dissolved and the man will no more have any relationship with her because of whom he was deprived of the sacred ministry.”[41]

 

Commenting on the text of Saint Basil, Balsamon makes a remark that the occurrence of the merciful attitude of the Church—the exact term employed is “pardon” (syggnjmh)—consists in the fact that such a priest has the permission of precedence with the other priests and that, for the other part, he does not receive a specific sanction concerning illicit marriages.[42] It can be objected anyway that the exclusion of a sacerdotal minister constitutes in itself an already severe punishment for an involuntary fault. Further more, an adage of canon law is that two punishments cannot be imposed for one offence.[43] But this manner of reasoning would lead us astray, since the disposition is not regarded as an act of punishment, but only the ascertaining of incapacity resulting from the absence of sacerdotal grace. We are very far here from the scholastic doctrine of “ex opere operato.” We can find up to now a significant echo of the ancient sacramental tradition in this exclamation by the bishop during the ordination of a deacon: “This is not in effect from the imposition of our hands but by the visit (en th episkoph) of your rich mercies of grace which are given to those who are worthy of You.”[44] It is in this perspective that there must be included the canons 9 and 10 of Nicea since the other similar canons relate to irregularities in the exercise of the priesthood.[45] These questions concern ecclesiastical affairs (les “oikonomiai ekklesiastikai,” as it is also said[46]), the point in consideration being that exceptional situations can justify a certain flexibility, but this must never affect the fundamental principles of ecclesial ordinances. They mention for example canon 18 of Antioch where t