On November 19, 2020, The Russian Orthodox Church’s Synodal Department for Church Relations with Society published what many media sources have referred to as a “black list of false clerics.” This list of clerics was added to an already existing list of organizations that were claiming to collect money for charitable and religious purposes but, who upon closer inspection, appear to be swindlers and scams. The Patriarchate created this list to warn believers that some of the religious leaders and figures that they may follow, whether online or off, are not endorsed by the Moscow Patriarchate and should be avoided.
The “black list” reveals the Moscow Patriarchate’s seriousness in confronting independent groups and individuals labeling themselves Orthodox that might lead members of the flock astray. This is a problem that many within the institutional Russian Orthodox Church have looked to deal with in the post-Soviet Period. The Church already combats the publication and distribution of unapproved religious literature though a tiered system of stamps of approval for print materials. The Patriarchate continues this trend with the publication of this list, providing clear guidance on who a faithful believer ought to avoid online. However, in publicizing these names, the Church may have only boosted interest in these clerics.
Like all Byzantine art historians, I am concerned about the conversion this year of Hagia Sophia into a mosque. Not being able to travel because of the pandemic, I only know about the current state of the building from images on the internet and from friends in Istanbul, especially David Hendrix, who has supplied the above image. The church’s great mosaics have been covered, so as not to offend Muslims at prayer times. Two are in the conch of the apse at the rear, the Theotokos was formerly seen in the center and a breath-taking beautiful angel at the right.
The great Byzantine floor of the nave has been covered with carpets, thus obscuring what the Greek sources call the “rivers,” the dark green marble bands that across the width of the nave. They once governed liturgical processions just as the chalk marks on the stage instruct the corps de ballet where to stand. Seeing those marble bands in the museum of Hagia Sophia, I imagined the grand processions of patriarch, bishops, priests, deacon, and choir members that once extended across the nave before all would exit to continue processing elsewhere in Constantinople. I have learned about the rivers and their use in the liturgy from scholars of architecture and liturgy. Others have done more to imagine the church during the Middle Ages. Here I want to cite the work of Bissera Pentcheva. With colleagues, she has scientifically reconstructed the space’s long reverberations. Using acoustic characteristics of the building that they discovered, the Cappella Romana has recorded chants the Feast of the Holy Cross, making it sound as if were there in Constantinople. As I type this, I am listening to that recording and am transported back to Constantinople.
From the opening pages of Rod Dreher’s Live Not by Lies: A Manual for Christian Dissidents (Sentinel, 2020), the assumption is that the lies which most threaten to engulf Christians today are those coming from the cultural and political Left. Political correctness, cancel culture, anti-racist kinds of training, gender theory, the “cult of social justice”—all treated by Dreher as comprising together a single system of lies—are what he says Christians must remain vigilant against and refuse to participate in. To help strengthen them in this resistance Dreher commends to his primarily North American readers the examples of remarkable 20th century Christian dissidents of Eastern Europe who stood up against totalitarian regimes. Some are familiar figures like Alexander Soltzenhitzyn (from whose 1974 essay addressing the Russian people comes the admonition to “live not by lies”), Václav Havel, and Karol Wojtyla. Others are less familiar, among them Croatian Jesuit priest Tomislav Poglajen Kolaković, Russian Orthodox dissident Alexander Ogorodnikov, Russian Baptist pastor Yuri Sipko, and Czech Catholic mathematician and human rights activist Václav Benda. Dreher offers moving accounts of these and other heroic figures and extracts considerable wisdom from their writings and from the recollections of those he has interviewed who knew them.
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. (Ecclesiastes 1:9)
QAnon and “Trumplicals” (I just can’t use the lovely word “Evangel” to reference them anymore.) They both seem to have come out of nowhere, unleashed on the nation’s consciousness by the presidency of Donald Trump. But they were there all along, hiding in plain sight in the history of American Christianity.
I wish the “Qs” could find their way to the Second Apology of Justin Martyr or the Embassy for the Christians of Athenagoras of Athens. If they had any understanding of the past, they might see how charges of perversion and cannibalism were used against the early Christians. But, they’ve jumped right in, spurred on by their hatreds and fears, throwing in the “blood libel” against Jews for grotesque measure. All of this dread of being devoured from the new cult of “Q.” They still can’t figure out what to do with John 6. Don’t they get that Orthodox and Catholic are “munching” on the Body of God at every Eucharist? Should we be prepared for our churches and synagogues to be invaded like pizza parlors, by armed fanatics searching for an abattoir of horrors?